


The Stranger, A Hound and The Little Bird

by Wolf_of_Winterfell



Series: The Stranger [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Aftermath of Torture, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Getting to know you, Godswood, Harry is a prick, Heart Tree, Help, Hound reborn, Intrigue, Judgement, Justice, Making up for lost time, Old Gods, Sansa has a foul mouth!, Take no prisoners, The wolf is strong in this one, Waking Up, Wedding, domestic violence triggers, don't piss sandor off, harry needs some new pants, nauseating fluff, sansan loving, sansan reunited, searching for lost love, seriously so fluffy i won't be responsible for dry cleaning bills, taking back control, trial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 52,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6211753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_of_Winterfell/pseuds/Wolf_of_Winterfell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor is found by Elder Brother on the Trident, following his encounter with The Stranger. He leaves the Quiet Isle after being patched up and sets off in search of Sansa Stark.</p><p>He stumbles into a situation that he isn't prepared for and finds that his presence is the catalyst for great change, with potentially deadly consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to the one shot story "The Stranger".
> 
> In the time post BBB, Sandor has been patched up by EB and Sansa has been married to Harry Hardyng. Sansa holds the North as Wardeness and Daenerys hold the Iron Throne.
> 
> This was previously called "Painted on My Heart".

As Sandor opened his eyes, even the dull glow of a candle across the room was painful to his head. The soft glow of the flickering flame made his head throb. In a vain attempt to quell the banging in his forehead, he shut his eyes and attempted to plunge his world back into darkness. "Buggering candle!" The curse came easily from his lips.

"Darkness isn't only the absence of light". The soft voice to the side of him made Sandor start. The man who relied on his Warrior senses had failed to observe the person directly beside him. In a flash, Sandor attempted to sit up and swivel to the side, ready to take the head of the unknown person, if necessary.  As he raised his arm to propel himself forward, he noticed he was manacled to the bed, forcing him to remain lying down.

"What the fuck is this?" The roar had escaped his lips before he had a chance to think about it, this was bad. Very bad. 

"We had to restrain you, your exploits are well known around these parts and the Lords would take no chances". The voice to the side of him offered the information softly.

"Show yourself! Are you a fucking coward? I'm chained down, it's not like I'm going anywhere!"  Sandor allowed anger and frustration to permeate every word. He heard the muted noise of a chair scraping against bare stone. A man stood at his feet.

"I am no coward but I am also no fool. I've been posted here by your side since you were found not far from here. You will attend an audience with the Lord and Lady and they will judge you justly".  Sandor's eyes focused and a young lad came into view, he had dark hair and a round face but Sandor didn't recognise him.

"Where am I?  Why am I being judged? For bloody once, I haven't done anything!" Sandor began to thrash, his large arms struggled fruitlessly to loosen the shackles around them. As his legs struggled, he felt a twinge in his thigh.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you that. You will see soon enough". The lad's face was not unsympathetic. "Just know that my employer is willing to help you but you must ask for it. You have one chance to ask for help but you must use it only if your situation is dire. If you wish to avail yourself of this offer, signal to me and I will ensure that they intercede on your behalf. This is not to be taken lightly, you using this offer of help will cost my employer dear".

Sandor's mouth hung open. "What the fuck is this? Do you think I'm a green cunt? This is a trick. I don't know what angle you're playing lad but this cloak and dagger crap is bullshit. I'm agreeing to nothing and asking for nothing. I won't be in anyone's debt." His mouth formed a grimace as the words left his mouth.

The lad looked him in surprise. "As you wish Ser. I will let the guards in and they will escort us. Please don't think about trying anything stupid, most of the men in the castle are posted outside your door and reinforcements are on the way".

Sandor nodded. "I'm no buggering Ser!"

A ghost of a smile passed the lad's lips. "I was warned."


	2. Helm

Sandor's mind was a raging whirlpool of thoughts and emotions. His long hair covered his face as he followed the large contingent of guards to the Great Hall of the castle. The lad hadn't been joking, Sandor counted 20 men, these people really weren't chancing anything to fate. As he kept pace behind the guards in front of him, he felt another twinge in his thigh. His hands had been placed in irons in front of him, he couldn't reach his thigh to explore the damage to the old wound Elder Brother had healed.

The lad from his room pushed his way through the guards and came to rest by his side. "Remember what I said, you just need to ask. I'll stay by you throughout".

The guards stopped in front of massive dark wood doors, they swung open from the inside and the march continued. Sandor was aware that the guards behind him stayed back.

Sandor heard several gasps as he made his way through the crowd, the hall was a sea of eyes all trained on him. The initial shock wore off and gave way to shouts and taunts. "Lannister Dog!" came from across the Hall. "Saltpans raper!" was a jeer from someone nearby. "Southron bastard!" and "Fucking animal" echoed around the room, giving way to several more insults. Sandor ignored them and made sure to eyeball anyone close to him, several people shrank back. One cocky young man returned his stare and shouted "You're worse than your monster brother!" Unfortunately for the man, he was too close and too slow to move out of the path of the headbutt Sandor levelled at him, he spat on the man's crumpled and bloodied form on the floor as he cried and clutched his nose. 

"You don't know shit about me you stupid bastard." As he shouted, six guards pulled him off as Sandor struggled to control the Hound as he had been taught to. The Hound longed to kick the bastard on the floor until not a drop of blood was left in his body, until the man was reduced to nothing. The Hound would crush every guard to ensure he could finish what he started and didn't care who was watching as long as no-one interfered. No-one insulted the Hound and lived to tell the tale. Sandor's body stilled but the internal fight was raging.

"Enough!" A male voice shouted from the top of the Great Hall. Sandor couldn't see. Men and women moved out of his path, the guards cleared and he could see a young man, sat on Ned Stark's great chair. He was young, smooth faced and what most people would consider handsome, although Sandor believed he knew it. Sandor's eyes flittered from the cocky young buck and rested on Sansa Stark, who was seated and staring at him mesmerised. Sandor was equally as transfixed. 

The young man introduced himself as Harry Hardyng, beyond that, Sandor didn't care. He stared at her, she didn't take her eyes off him. It had been a long time since he had seen her face. He had offered to take her away on the night the Blackwater burned, she had refused him. Sansa Stark had haunted his dreams ever since. Ever since Sandor's encounter with The Stranger, he had made it his mission to find her. And here she was. She was a proper lady now, fully grown. Sadness was etched on her face, the softness of her face had hardened over the years, it made Sandor's heart twinge to think of what she might have been through, he'd heard rumours, despite Elder Brother's attempts to shield him from them. None of them were good, they awakened the protective feelings he had always had for her. The thought of anyone harming her made the violent and sarcastic Hound awaken once more from the inner recesses of his mind

"Are you listening?" Harry demanded.

"No." Sandor knew his honesty was brutal, in reality he was unaware that he was being addressed at all.

"You really are as bad as they say, aren't you?" Harry parried.

"Depends on what it is they say. Only halfwits and serving wenches listen to gossip". Sandor retorted.

"Some humility and respect would become you, remember who you are talking to". Harry's delicate features were gathered in anger.

"And who would that be? I've been wracking my brain and I'm fucked if I know the Hardyings as a House so you can't really have come from a lot. Much less aware of why one would be allowed to marrya Stark of all people. I thought you highborns married up? Not traded down..." He addressed Sansa in the last part of his speech, Harry was apoplectic. Sandor thought for a minute that a fleeting smile passed Sansa's lips but her features straightened out quickly, his mouth twitched into a smile.

As Harry nodded to a nameless guard, he stepped forward and clubbed Sandor around the back of his kneecaps, forcing him to the floor with a grunt.

"You are charged with being the terror of the Saltpans. I have no idea why you turned up on Winterfell's doorstep but it seems now you are our problem. You are charged with rape, murder and theft. What say you?" Sandor could see from Harry's face that he had already judged and sentenced him.

"Not guilty. I wasn't in the area at the time of the Saltpans pillages". Sandor made sure he stared down the cocky little shit in front of him.

"It was you! A person wearing your helm was spotted several times, there weren't many survivors but they all said the same". Harry sneered.

The hall was deathly silent, despite the crowd that had turned up to see him.

"My helm was lost before I departed. It sounds like my helm right enough but my head was most certainly not in it at the time". Sandor could tell that Harry was unimpressed.

"How convenient!" Harry levelled back.

"I could wear a crown and a flowing  gown too but it wouldn't make me Daenerys Targaryen would it?" Sandor heard several sniggers rise up from behind his back. Murmurs of agreement rose up from the corners of the hall, he hoped he had done enough to turn the tide of opinion in his favour. Sandor knew he couldn't win their goodwill but doubt might be enough to keep him alive.

That took the wind out of Harry's sails.

"On the balance of probability, I believe you are the Terror of Saltpans. I believe, from your history and what I have heard about your character, that you would be very capable of murder, rape and torment. I don't wish you to be in my castle a minute longer. I sentence you to death by hanging or sword. Have you any last sage words for us Clegane?" 

Sandor stole a glance at Sansa, all the colour had drained from her face. Sandor couldn't resist one last jab. "Yeah, boy. You're no more the ruler of Winterfell then I am the Terror of the Saltpans! You can stick a flower in an arsehole but you wouldn't call it a vase, would you?"

Harry shouted with rage at the insult, the people around him shimmered with activity at the thought of a public execution. The guards surrounding him closed in and seized him by his arms, Sansa was gesturing wildly by the side of her husband.

 Sandor turned to the lad by his side and nodded quickly. The lad whistled short and sharp but in the hubbub of the crowd, most people missed it. 

"NO!" Sandor was surprised to hear Sansa shout and rise to her feet, the hall fell silent in the wake of her outburst. "This isn't right!" Harry wheeled around to face her.

"Don't worry your pretty head, my love. I shall take care of it. I won't have this brute here a minute longer." Harry smiled indulgently at his wife.

"You can't sentence him to die...." Sansa started but was interrupted.

"I am the Lord here, I will do as I please and no-one will contradict me!" Harry attempted to shut Sansa down.

"Guards! Clear the hall and then reassemble here!" Sansa yelled directions at the guards while fixing her husband with an icy glare. The blue silk sleeves of her gown trailed down over her chest and stomach as she folded her arms in front of her, still glaring at her husband. The guards complied and cleared the hall of people before standing back in their places.

"You forget your station, my Lord. I am Wardeness of the North and you are my Consort. You do not outrank me. I will not be belittled in front of my people, in my childhood home. You are overreaching your grasp". Sansa's eyes narrowed as she finished. Sandor was slack jawed in shock at the exchange.

Anger clouded Harry's face momentarily before lifting. "Of course, my love." The smile he used to placate her didn't reach his eyes, Sandor knew this man to be false.

"As you know, it is the Northern custom that only the head of the house may sentence men to death, despite my gender that is me. I will not sentence this man to his death and you do not possess the authority to. There will be no execution today. I shall talk to him and find out if an alibi can be established. If not, we shall send him to Queen Daenerys for questioning".  Sansa folded her arms.

Sandor stole a look at Harry and saw utter shock on his face, Sandor guessed that it wasn't often Sansa stood her ground. Harry stalked off, taking a guard with him and slamming one of the great doors as he went.

Sansa waked over to where he knelt on the floor and offered him a dainty hand,  he accepted it and pulled himself to his feet. 


	3. Apple

Sandor shuffled behind her on the way out of the Hall. A guard held him under each arm and one followed close behind. They veered away from the passage back to cells, Sandor wasn't going to question it. 

He had shadowed her many times before: sometimes by her side but more often directly in front or behind her. He eyed her willowy form surreptitiously. She was definitely taller, her form was much curvier and more womanly than the figure she had possessed before. The blue silk dress hugged her silhouette, every curve was a compliment to her body and the skill of the seamstress. Her long hair trailed down her back, dancing red in the candlelight as if it were aflame. Sandor lowered his eyes, lest the guards catch him eye fucking their mistress. Normally, he wouldn't give a fuck who caught him staring but he was reliant on their goodwill, which was tenuous already.

The small processional approached a guarded room, a uniformed sentry opened the door as Sansa neared and moved aside. 

"Bring him here please, undo the shackles." Sansa's voice was soft but invited no argument. Sandor found himself deposited down in a vacant chair, a guard produced a key and freed his wrists and feet, Sandor rubbed the skin where the metal had bitten into it. She delicately seated herself in the spare seat opposite and addressed the guards again. "Leave us".

"My lady, are you sure?" One unnamed guard voiced his dissent of her order. 

Her blue eyes found his, "Quite sure. Wait outside. I'll summon you if I need you but I won't. Have Hanna bring food and wine, our guest looks malnourished". The guards bowed and made no further attempt to question their orders. 

Sansa sat unmoving, staring at him unflinchingly as the door closed.

"Little bird, what's going on?" Sandor didn't know where to start.

Her face had been devoid of emotion, an expressionless mask. Sandor had seen her like this back in Kings Landing, wiping her face clean of feelings so as not to enrage the psychotic boy king.

"How many years has it been since I saw you last?" Her voice was a whisper.

"Five? Eight? I don't bloody know." In honesty he had stopped counting a long time ago.

Sansa seemed to awaken. Her back straightened in the chair and she folded her hands demurely on her lap. "We have much to talk about, you and I. Too much was left unsaid in my room all those years ago. I didn't understand it all then but now I do." 

"Your husband wants me dead. I get that. Is he likely to want to listen to this?" Sandor had never let propriety get in the way before but this was different. Sansa had intervened very publicly for him, she had a higher status and responsibilities now.

A hearty snort eminated from her, it shocked him.

"Ha! That drunken lecher is likely off sulking now, he'll disappear for a sennight to mend his wounded pride in Winter Town. I shouldn't have shamed him so publicly but he had it coming, reasserting my place at the top of the hierarchy was the only way I could save your neck from the noose." A playful smile played on her lips. "He has had his own way for entirely too long, he has delusions of being the King of the castle".

The blue of her eyes pierced his soul as she regarded him silently. Only the cracking of wood in the hearth could be heard in the room. "We do have much to catch up on but first, the matter of saving your skin properly. Where were you when the Saltpans was being pillaged?" 

Sandor laughed harshly. "You really did put yourself out for me, what makes you sure it wasn't me raping and pillaging my way across those lands?"

She laughed, a tinkling sound which was followed by a smile on her red lips. "Is my faith misplaced? I think not. For one, you don't lie. I don't believe you have ever been a raper. For such a feared fighter and vicious warrior, you have a peculiar moral code. I knew it wasn't you. Where were you?" 

Sandor was touched by her faith in him, there weren't many who had placed so much trust in his character. "After I left, I hit the road and travelled around, mainly stealing what food I could or hunting to survive. I ended up wounded and almost died on the Trident, nasty wound gone bad almost finished me off". His hand rubbed his thigh without much thought. "I was found by a holy man, who took me to his Isle to heal my body and mend my ways. He saved my life, I can't repay the debt I owe him. I was there for a long time, he and his Brothers are the only ones who can verify that I am not the Terror of the Saltpans."

Sansa listened, enthralled. " I will send a raven immediately. A sworn statement from a holy man would prove beyond a doubt that you had nothing to do with what happened at Saltpans. I will send word to the Queen immediately. "

"There is one more thing, Arya was with me on the Trident. The last time I saw her, she was alive". Sansa's mouth fell open as he told her of her sister.

A knock at the door interrupted the words that were forming on Sansa's lips. 

" 'Scuse me m'lady. I have beef broth, bread, wine, cheese, apples and fruit cake". A middle aged woman placed the tray on the table in front of them. "Will you be requiring anything else Lady Sansa?" 

Sandor barely registered the exiting serving woman, his eyes were focused on the steaming bowl of heaven before him. Chunks of tender beef and carrot nestled amongst potatoes, onions and a thin liquid. The steam generated spread the scent of the dish and Sandor could feel his mouth salivating. 

"Sandor?" She spoke enquiringly, breaking the trance. "Please eat, you look starving".

That was all the invitation he needed. His large hand found the spoon and he shovelled the meal unceremoniously into his mouth. He barely chewed the chunks in the broth, ignoring the searing pain that passed down his gullet. As the broth bowl emptied, he raised the edge of his bowl to his mouth and slurped the liquid. Sansa laughed. Sandor wiped the last of the liquid from his beard with the back of his hand, becoming self conscious under her gaze. "What?"

She laughed softly again. "Nothing. I'm glad to see you enjoy your food, I wasn't being unkind".

Sandor thought back to the young girl of the past, whose delicate sensibilities would have been offended by his coarse table manners. "This is the first decent meal I've had in months. Girl, there's nothing better than the first feast after a long famine". His hand closed around the thickly sliced bread, which had been spread generously with butter. It was demolished in no time at all, along with the hunk of cheese.

Sandor looked up again and saw her watching him, he couldn't discern her expression. "Sorry.  Want me to eat the apple with a knife and fork? You highborns and your fancy manners..." As the last word left his lips, Sansa's hand closed around the apple and she raised it to her mouth, taking a bite as she did so. Sandor was stunned, she didn't break eye contact once. He was part aroused and part sorry to see the apple go. Her small hand placed the apple back before him and dabbed the juices that ran down her chin delicately with a kerchief.

Sandor's eyebrow raised as he consumed the rest of the apple in a few short bites, followed closely by the cake. Sansa poured him a goblet of wine.

"Now you've finished. About my sister...."

..................................

 

The silence drew on for a good few minutes. Tension thrummed in his body which hadn't been  present during his meal. He drained the goblet dry without trying.

"I picked your sister up after I had a run in with the Brotherhood Without Banners. She was with them, not by choice I am sure. I took her with me. That little wolf bitch was almost the death of me, how your mother coped with her..." Sandor smiled at the memory of the dark haired waif that had shared his saddle all that time. "I planned to deliver her safe to your mother and brother, in exchange for coin. We heard of the wedding at the Twins and headed that way. We were too late, luckily. I had to knock her out to stop her running in. We knew it had been a massacre of your people but she would have run in to see for herself. She's got some bloody balls that girl." Sandor took in Sansa's crestfallen face. "That was a planned attack on your kin and don't let no other bugger tell you otherwise. I'm sorry".

Sansa's head fell slightly as tears rolled off her face. "It's been a long time now but it doesn't make it any easier. I never got to say goodbye".

Sandor nodded. "I took her away and we were heading up to the Eyrie to your Aunt. I got injured and the wound festered. I was weak, fevered and useless. I begged your sister to kill me but she didn't. She left me on the Trident, took my coin and carried on. Elder Brother found me and took me to the Quiet Isle. Sorry Little Bird, she was alive the last time I saw her and from what I saw, she'll outlast us all. Arya is a survivor."

Sansa's still bowed head showed no signs of lifted as her body wracked with sobs. "Thank you for telling me."

"I'm sorry it wasn't better news". 

She seemed to pull herself together, her head lifted and she dried her tears. "You're the only one who has ever been honest with me".

"A dog won't lie to you..." He started.

"You're no dog and you know it. The dog is as dead as the vapid little girl with delusions of being a princess treasured by her perfect prince." Sansa's smile was wry.

His face grimaced. "How did you and that prick happen?" 

She grinned. "That's another story for another day. I will find you a room, rather than a cell. I will have to at least try to placate the Northern Lords by placing guards outside your door. Try not to rape and pillage while you are here please? I just had the banners and wallhangings refinished and I'd hate to see all that work for naught".  

He guffawed, not expecting his little bird to jape. "Aye. You have my word".


	4. Mycah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments, it's very appreciated.
> 
> The title of the fic is a Cult song. I get strong Sansan feels from it, it's worth a listen if you get a chance.

The sun rose and awoke Sandor from the best slumber he had ever experienced.

After he left Sansa, he had been taken to a guest room and allowed to bathe and shave, before tumbling into a featherbed and blacking out. 

"Why are you in my room again? Were you watching me sleep? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were lovesick for me. Wenches only for me". Sandor japed. He swung his legs around and perched on the edge of the featherbed, as best a man of his size could.

Sandor's bawdy assertion was met by a torrent of laughter. Before him stood the lad who had helped save his skin.

"I can assure you Ser, I have no romantic inclinations towards you. Besides, you're not my type either". His round face bore a playful smile. 

"Who are you and why did you help me?"  Sandor didn't like being in the dark.

"I am Lady Sansa's right hand man. I do as she bids me." His face had an open and honest quality about it. As Sandor scrutinised it, he noticed a faint familiarity that he struggled to place.

"What is your name? Where do you come from lad?" 

"My name is Lycas and I was born and raised near here. My father was Winterfell's butcher in the time of Lord Stark..."  Sandor's face fell.

"You're...."

"Yes. Mycah was my brother". 

....................

 

Sandor was silent and still, unsure of what he could say to break the pregnant silence.

"I killed your brother". The words tumbled from his charred lips unbidden.

Lycas nodded. "That's what I heard. I was young when it happened, I was shielded from the gory details.I knew Mycah was gone and wasn't coming back..."

Sandor stared down at his feet. "You would have me tell it in my own words?"

Lycas nodded.

 

...................

 

Sandor fought back the fog that covered most of his past memories of the heinous acts he had committed.

"I worked for the Lannisters. I swore to them when I was younger than you are now. I became a member of the Kingsguard and Joffrey's bodyguard. The Court travelled to Winterfell for King Robert to personally offer Sansa's father the role as his Hand. There was a falling out between Joffrey, Arya and your brother. I wasn't there so I don't know what happened. I was ordered to run your brother down by the Prince so I did."

Lycas was silent. "Is there anything more?"

Sandor waivered before adding more detail. "I ran him down not far from here. I returned with his body over my horse and went to seek wine, joking about smelling like butcher's boy. I was brutal....Aye. I was a different man then, I took pleasure in killing and suffering." Sandor's head bowed as remorse washed over him. Remorse had been a foreign concept for most of his life, Elder Brother had insisted he take ownership for his actions. "Mycah met his death quickly".

Lycas tumbled into the chair by the side of Sandor's bed, deathly silent. 

 

........................

 

The silence stretched on for a good few moments. 

"Why?" Lycas demanded.

"Why what?" Sandor was confused.

"Why would you run down a young boy but then shield a young girl from the worst of Joffrey's torment?" 

"I only did what I did to your brother because I was commanded to, I took no pleasure in it. Sansa was different.  Everyone treated her like shit because of what they said about her father and family. I won't tell you exactly what they did to her because I don't want to embarrass her, it's her story to tell you..."

"My Lady told me everything you did for her at Kings Landing. I already know". Lycas's face gave nothing away.

"Don't you want revenge for your brother?" Revenge had been a familiar friend to Sandor for a very long time.

Lycas shook his head. "What would that achieve? My brother is long dead and my attempt to mete out revenge would end in my death and possibly yours as well, then where would Lady Sansa be? I won't take away the only people she trusts in Mycah's name. He was a gentle boy and spite wasn't in his nature. The Stranger needs not our hubris to speed his claiming of our souls"

Sandor was dumbstruck. "You're a lot cleverer than you look, lad. I wish I had been as wise when I was your age, it would have saved us all a lot of misery".

He laughed. "Lady Sansa tells me that she would be dead without your assistance and that is enough for me. No man who was rotten to the core, as people believe you are - would put themselves at risk for a young girl, no matter how beautiful she is. She told me you've changed, atoned for your sins."

Memories of gravedigging for lost souls flashed before his eyes. "Aye. I don't know whether my ledger can ever truly be wiped clean but I have been trying".

"I don't hold your past against you. But you are accountable for your actions from here on in. Lady Sansa has risked more than you know to aid you, don't let her down."

"I'd die before I let her down. I've been looking for her for a very long time, nothing will stop me looking after her interests". Sandor's face became fierce with fervour.

"I'll hold you to that. Lady Stark tells it right, you are a true and honest man, despite your past. She needs you now more than ever". Lycas extended his hand to Sandor.


	5. Touch

It had been a few days since he had seen Sansa last and he had stayed mainly in his chamber. His door was still guarded on the outside.

Lycas visited as and when he could, often between errands. Sandor wasn't wont to liking people without them earning his regard but Lycas devotion to Sansa quickly catapulted him up in his esteem. The conversation about Mycah had opened up old wounds and although Lycas didn't hold it against Sandor, he knew that it didn't make it right.

His thoughts were disturbed by a rattle at the doorhandle.

"Lady Sansa wants to see you". The guard was abrupt but it didn't matter. Sandor followed willingly to her chambers.

"Sandor! Be seated". Sansa was radiant in a simple green gown, the hue made her hair shimmer.

"My apologies for not being able to see you since the other night, I have had several matters which required my immediate attention". She smiled as she offered him wine. "Dornish red, your favourite". 

"I understand little bird, Lycas has been keeping me company." Sandor drank deeply, Dornish red was impossible to get hold of the Quiet Isles.

"He told me you had come to an understanding? I apologise for not forewarning you but Lycas is a brilliant judge of character, I wanted him to speak to you. Other than you, he's the most genuine person I know". Sansa looked enquiringly.

"He is very wise, for the second son of a butcher". Sandor smirked.

"He is younger and wiser than any sage or Maester I have known, I value his counsel greatly. Lycas was taken in by a local Lord after the death of his father. He came to me for a position here after I returned to Winterfell. Not long after he entered my service and made his value known. It may be untraditional that a second son of a butcher keeps company with the Wardeness of the North but the times are changing Sandor, society is not what it used to be, Queen Daenerys has seen to that". A small smile played on her lips, Sandor believed there was more to the story. 

"Lycas told me you said I was different. How did you mean?" Sandor had been turning their conversation over in his brain.

"Well for one, the Sandor I used to know would have ploughed through all of those guards or died in the attempt." Sansa smiled. "Nothing could stop you once your blood was up. Your eyes aren't full of hated and anger. Your eyes were what used to scare me the most when we first met, they were so troubled." Sansa paused. "I sent Lycas to you when I heard you'd been captured with the hope that your pride wouldn't prevent you from seeking help and with the hope that you were changed. Our conversation after cemented the difference between the man you were and the man you are today. You are the Sandor I knew but different, more at peace. Does that make any sense?"

He nodded. "Aye". 

"I wouldn't have let Harry execute you, even if you hadn't sought my assistance. I was curious whether you would want to be helped".

Sandor laughed out loud. "I didn't take you for a gambler, girl".

..................

Their time together stretched on, they talked about the past and kept the conversation light. There was a topic that Sandor was dying to broach but somehow he felt leery of bringing it up until eventually, he couldn't hold back.

"What of your husband?" Sandor drank again.

"Still drowning his sorrows in his cups and the cunt of another woman, I don't doubt".

Sandor spat his wine out in shock of her language and proceeded to choke on what was left in his mouth. Sansa laughed as he furiously beat himself on his chest to aid his recovery. "You said...?"

"Cunt? Yes I did. My Lady mother and Septa will be spinning in their graves. Why are you so shocked, you used to say it all the time! In fact, I'll wager that you used to say it on purpose to get a reaction." Her smile was devilish.

"But you're a...."

"Highborn lady? Yes I am, thank you for noticing. Courtesies have their place but I've had to harden up over the years, the scared girl in Kings Landing would have been chewed up and spat out here. Being a Stark isn't enough, the North can't afford weakness and fools. It's taken some adjustment and for the most part, I am still the Lady I always was. My mouth runs a bit bolder these days." Her face was peaceful as she spoke. 

"Sandor? Are you ok?" Sansa's voice snapped him from his stupor. 

"Yeah. You're not the scared chirping bird I used to know, full of manners and apologies". The change in her was profound when they were alone. 

"Is that a bad thing?" Her voice enquired softly.

Sandor shook his head. "No. I'm glad you are well and safe enough to feel emboldened. Even though you are different, you are still the girl I knew".

Her laugh rang out. "I'm a woman wedded and bedded, unfortunately. I know you see me as a girl but I'm not".

Sandor's face became thunderous. "We do what we must to survive".

The playfulness was wiped from her face. "Do you think I chose to marry that fool? Littlefinger arranged the match when he passed me off as his own bastard to aid his own ambition, he wanted the strength of the North and Vale combined. I was left with no choice. Littlefinger was murdered a few years ago now, his double dealing caught up with him, obviously he wasn't as devious as he believed himself to be."

"Can't you dissolve the marriage?" 

Sansa shook her head sadly. "I made enquiries when his womanising came to light but alas no. The marriage is sound legally and in the eyes of the Gods. If I tried to cast him aside, it could end in civil war between our houses. We can't afford any more conflict, the loss of men and coin would compromise everything and the impending Winter would kill us all".

"You've thought this through haven't you?" 

"You try being married to a man who can't keep his manhood in his small clothes and tell me what you would do. I can't stand him touching me, it makes my skin crawl. It has for a long time". A tear ran down her cheek. 

He placed his big hand over hers. "He's a fucking idiot, little bird. He's got the most beautiful woman as his wife and he's off shagging around".

She wiped her tears clumsily with her free hand. "My apologies, I didn't bring you here to tell you of my marital strife. The raven returned from the Quiet Isle this morning. Elder Brother has confirmed your testimony. I have forwarded it on to the Queen as evidence of your innocence and I have forwarded a copy on to the Northern Lords to put their minds at ease. You're free to roam the castle unguarded. Just be aware that most people here don't know the man you are, they still fear the man you were."

Sandor nodded. "Aye. Thanks little bird. I have no coin to pay for my accommodation but I can be of help training men, exercising horses. Whatever you need."

Sansa smiled warmly. "I will talk to Lycas and see what he can think of to keep you busy".

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes more, each not realising that their hands were still intertwined.


	6. Flower/Flour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double chapter today as I am off for a weekend at the birthplace of the Bard! 
> 
> I can't wait, we have tickets for the RSC too :D

Sandor had taken to escorting Sansa everywhere, just as he had in the reign of King Joffrey. He wasn't oblivious to the stares and whispers that followed him everywhere but he didn't care. His eyes scanned the environment for threats to her safety and his ears remained opened for any trace of plots against her, his service to the Lannisters had left its mark on him.

"Sandor, I must visit the forge to discuss the stocks of metal, do you want to stay here?" Sansa was sat in her solar, after breaking her fast. 

"Aye, I'll come with you". 

...................

The Sun hung low in the sky, sending dappled light throughout the large courtyard of Winterfell. Despite the early hour, the yard was a hive of activity. The air had not yet warmed properly, so the bustling passersby emitted cloudy breath into the air around them. Sansa greeted people as they passed her. 

"Sandor, you need not walk a pace behind me, this isn't Kings Landing". Her simple brown and green gown was woollen and thick, a complimentary shawl wrapped around her arms and shoulder. He fell into step beside her.

"My lady!" A man stopped Sansa, Sandor immediately geared up to take him down. 

"Jonas! How are you fairing? I didn't expect you back so soon". Sansa seemed pleased to see this man. 

"I am well, thank you my lady. I come directly from the ship, with the last of my goods. This is my last trip now, my mother is ailing". Jonas smiled.

"Jonas grew up here and has been a flower merchant over the Narrow Sea. He has returned to see his family". Sansa offered Sandor a short introduction.

"I bring these for you, Wardeness." Jonas offered her a huge bunch of Gardenias, their fragrance was pronounced, even in the frigid morning air.

"Jonas! I can't possibly accept these! They must have cost you dear....." Sandor watched her eyes marvel at the flowers before her, exotic merchants never normally made it this far North.

"You must. It was you who informed me of Queen Daenerys' penchant for exotic flowers, my business has thrived due to your recommendation to the Dragon Queen. She is a just and fair ruler, her patronage has turned my business and life around for the better. I have used some of the profits to pay for care for my mother in her final days. When I return, I shall bring you enough flowers to dress Winterfell and it will be my warmest regards." The smile on Jonas's face was warm and sincere.

"I thank you, Jonas. That is a lovely gesture." Sansa courtseyed.

"Not at all my lady. I will pass these to your handmaidens and let you get on with your business." Jonas swept a low bow and moved in the direction they had come from. 

Sandor turned to her as they resumed their path to the forge and watched her closely. She did her best by the people and was loved in return for her efforts, that much was clear. 

..................

As they neared the forge, they heard a loud bang and screaming coming from the direction of the bakery.

"Stay here!" Sandor rushed ahead of her but soon realised she was keeping pace with him. 

"No, I will see too".

They ran into the door of the bakery and found a commotion. 

Sandor saw a boy lying on the floor, surrounded by a couple of men. He pushed his way through and found that a massive sack of flour was pinning him to the floor by his leg. The boy was unconscious. Given the circumstances, Sandor considered it a blessing.

"My lady! It's Wyllem. It fell on him and it's too heavy to get off, he was in real pain before he passed out". Sansa looked aghast at the suffering of the child before her eyes.

Sandor surveyed the two men trying in vain to move the sack from the boy. 

"Move out of my way!" He pushed the two men aside and grabbed each side of the sack. His height and arm reach gave him an advantage over the two much smaller men. "I'm going to try to lift the sack, you two need to drag him out quick as you can. If I can lift it, I don't know how long I can hold it for ". The two men nodded mutely. Every muscle in Sandor strained as he deadlifted the sack with Herculean effort. As it cleared the floor, he puffed and panted through his mouth. "Now!" He shouted to the men to move the boy from under the sack. He was pulled out as quick as a flash, Sandor roared as he deposited the sack back on the floor, a shower of flour sprayed out and covered them all. 

"Wyllem!" Sansa ran to aid the boy on the floor. "Someone fetch the Maester!" 

"It will be quicker for me to carry him there". Sandor's screaming muscles didn't relish the thought of traipsing back carrying the dead weight of the unconscious boy but he could see it needed to be done. 

"Please hurry! Maester will know how to help him". Sansa's voice was frantic with worry.

Sandor picked the boy up, he estimated that he was no older than ten. He set off running back towards the house, leaving stunned bystanders in his wake.


	7. Acceptance

"A toast to Sandor, of House Clegane! Without his timely assistance, Wyllem's injuries would have been much worse. Our Maester tells me that he will make a full recovery and in time, his foot and leg will return to normal." Sansa beamed as she addressed the people in the hall before her, her glass aloof. "Wyllem's father Wylen has asked to say a few words". Sansa beckoned Wylen from his place.

"Thank you m'lady". Wylen stood before Sandor, he looked terrified. "My lad was playing in my bakery and a sack fell on him. It couldn't be moved, I thought we were going to have to cut him free. Sandor Clegane lifted the sack and let my lad free, then carried him to the Maester himself." Wylen looked down at the table before looking Sandor right in his eyes. "I admit I believed Sandor Clegane to be the Lannister Hound still and thought ill of him. He had the strength to help but he didn't have to. Maester tells me that Wyllem would be without his foot and part of his leg if the circulation had been cut off any longer. Sandor Clegane, I judged you wrongly and I apologise. I can't repay you for what you did for my lad today, I am glad you are here". Wylen offered his hand to Sandor. He eyed it warily, not used to people seeking contact from him. As he shook it, the Hall erupted into cheering. Cups were banged on the table and feet were stamped under the benches. 

Sansa smiled as a broad grin found its way onto Sandor's face.

...................

They sat together in her solar after supper, as they had become accustomed to.

"You didn't have to get him to sing my praises in public, little bird." The words weighed heavy in Sandor's throat.

"What makes you think I did? He came to me and asked if he could. It didn't look like you had any objections, the grin on your face was proof he did the right thing". Her voice was soft and reassuring. "It was no trap and it did you more good than you know".

"Aye. Well it's not often my good deeds are celebrated, rather than my misdeeds dragged up again. It's acceptance I'm not used to". Sandor hadn't been aware of the grin on his face.

The smile evaporated on her face. "You have no official place here, you could be asked to leave at any minute". Sansa's statement came as a shock to him. 

"Aye. Do you want me to leave?" 

"No!" Sansa seemed to struggle to get her words out. "I don't want you to leave. I want you to have a place here, if you want one."

He looked at her for a few minutes before responding. "Aye. My place is with you, wherever you are. I will do anything you ask me to". 

Sansa's face softened. 

"Very touching, wife. Is this a conversation that I should be a part of?" Harry stood leaning casually against the doorframe behind Sandor.

.................

"Ah husband! You have seen fit to return! How goes Winter Town? I assume the whores there are once again well ploughed and significantly richer than you found them?" Sansa's face clouded with anger and her spine became ramrod straight.

Harry laughed. "Lady Sansa. I love you too, wife. Fear not, there is plenty of me to go around". Harry grabbed the crotch of his breeches in an obscene gesture.

Sandor observed but as he went to interject, his timid little bird spoke again. 

"Therein lies the problem, Lord Harry. Entirely too much of you has already been around. I wouldn't lie with you even if the entire Conclave of the Citadel cured what multiple whores disease must wrack your body. Not even if the High Sparrow cleansed you with holy water and pronounced you saintly. You act cheaply and besmirch both our union and the position you hold here at Winterfell. This has gone on for long enough, I say no more." Sandor's mouth gaped at the words she spat at her husband

Harry looked shocked for a few moments before retaining his composure. "Well well wife, it seems we may have run into problems. It became my sacred right to lie with you the moment you accepted my cloak..."

"You vowed before the Gods to stay faithful to me. It seems you are a liar as well as an adulterer. Demanding your rights but reneging on the promises you made in the very sight of the Gods and men. You won't cow me anymore, Harry. Your time of ruling for me are long gone. My patience wears thin". Sansa's face had gained a serene quality, Sandor had a feeling this was the culmination of long standing marital woes.

Sansa's words knocked the bravado from the arrogant young man. He looked thoughtfully at the seated pair. 

"And what of you, oh wholesome and virtuous wife?" A smirk crossed his face.

"No-one can question my virtue, I was a maid proven on our marriage and have been faithful only to you". Sansa's eyes were frosted with anger.

"Until now, perhaps. How many secret meetings have you had with our friend the Dog here? Very cosy it is as well. Did you get him hard? Ride his cock? Let him stick his giant fingers right into your cunt? Of course he'd like you to but did you? You have no worry about being with child, seen as you are as barren as the great Dornish desert." Harry's sneer twisted his features.

The smile that Sansa had on her face was forced but she rose to her feet and approached him. As he stood in her way, she stared through him before Sandor saw her hand raise to strike his face. The slap echoed loudly around the room and Harry's hand flew to his face in shock.

"You may address your whores in such a manner, my Lord but you will remember where you are and who you are talking to. Leave my sight immediately". 

Harry knew he was bested. He spun on his heel and wrenched the door open, exiting swiftly and then slamming it shut behind him.

............

As he left, the air seemed to whoosh out of Sansa. She sat down and her face crumpled.

"I can't begin to imagine what you must think of me! I'm sorry you had to witness that". Tears ran between the fingers, which were pressed to her eyes. 

Sandor reached over and gently peeled her hands away from her face.

"The fucker had it coming, you stood your ground. I'm proud of you". Sandor held her hand in his.

"I'm humiliated. The secrets of a marriage bed should never be made public." Sansa started.

"No-one will hear it from me." Sandor smiled.

Sansa smiled and placed her remaining hand over his.

"Being so coarse and confrontational is still strange for me, I don't like it. I can see it is needed sometimes though. Harry would have locked me away in a cellar and would be acting as Warden now if I didn't stand up for myself". Sansa looked at him.

"That was coarse and confrontational...for you. You have many levels to master before you reach my level of coarseness". Sandor japed.

Sansa's playful smile disintegrated. "Maybe you should teach me".


	8. Make Way

Sandor stared hard at the woman before him as she broke her fast. "Are you alright, little bird? You had a hard day yesterday".

She nodded. "Yes, thank you. He's off somewhere licking his wounds".

"What of Lycas? I haven't seen him for a few days".

Sansa's features evened out. "Lycas is on an important errand for me, he should be back soon. I have petitions to hear this morning, will you come too?"

"There's bugger all else to do". Sandor grinned.

.................

 

They entered the Great Hall, Sandor could see a sea of people, much like the first time he had been taken there. 

"Make way for the Wardeness!"  Sandor used his frame to push through the crowd to the front, the people soon parted.

In Ned Stark's chair sat Harry, grinning like a lunatic.

"Ah, wife! And Ser Dog. I have already started listening to the petitions today, please be seated". He indicated to the chair to the right of him that she had occupied on the day Sandor had gone before them.

Sansa was still and composed, her mother's Tully influence shining through. Without missing a beat she replied. "Of course, husband. I shall be only too glad to listen to what my people want to tell me. Please vacate my chair and I shall resume proceedings forthwith. You are familiar with your place in the chair to the side of you..."

Harry's face fell and darkness pervaded his features. He shot to his feet and slunk off to the edge of the room. 

As Sansa took her place in her father's chair, Sandor took his place and stood behind her. The people in front of them were silent, no doubt processing what they had just witnessed.

She signalled to the person before her. "Good morrow, you have my attention..."

.........................

 

The morning sped by in a blur of petitions. She acted as referree in a squabble between neighbouring farmers, the last matter of the day. 

"Hello. What is your name and what is happening?" Sansa addressed a scruffy looking man. As she spoke to him and he removed his cloth hat.

"I wisht not to disturb ye m'lady. I am Deryk and I farm potatas and vegetables on th'edge o th'village. My neighbour dun stole some of m'land. Ripped m'plants right up he did and fenced it off for himself." The man pointed at his countering number, a similarly dressed man who was younger.

"And you, what is your name?" Sansa turned her attention to the other man.

"My name is Johyn, m'lady. I took the land over from m'uncle when he died. I raise pigs and chickens". The man before her was younger than the first.

"Is this accusation true, Johyn?" Sansa was direct.

"I only took back thr land he stole from m'uncle!" Johyn was indignant and raised his voice.

Sandor stepped forward. "You will guard your tone as you speak to the Wardeness!"

Johyn blanched at the sight of Sandor. "Apologies m'lady. M'uncle said Deryk stole his land a long while ago, I was only reclaiming what was his by right".

Sansa was silent for a few moments. "This is a fix. Deryk, I believe when you said you think that your land was taken and your crop removed. Johyn, I believe that you did it under the impression it was yours. However...We cannot afford to waste produce. Johyn, you could have waited until the crops were harvested to dispute the land rather than waste them. We cannot have a meal of meat alone, vegetables give us nutrition that we need....Deryk, can you prove ownership of the land?"

"No m'lady. The farm has been in me family generations, before true records were kep."

"Johyn, can you prove ownership?" She addressed the younger man.

"No, m'lady. M'uncle left me nowt in t'way o records".

"In that case, I have no way of determining the true owner of that land. The only fair course of action is that the disputed patch of land will be split in half, half for each of you. Johyn, you will compensate Deryk for his lost produce, either in animals, meat or coin. You will reach an agreement before you leave here and I trust Deryk to tell me if this does not happen. I will not hear of any further malicious wasteage of food, Winter is coming and if we are all to survive it, we need every scrap we can get. Do you both think my ruling fair?" 

Both men nodded. 

"Good. Go now and be kind to each other. The people of the North rely on the bounty of both of your farms, harming each other harms us all". 

"Thanks ye Wardeness". The men both shook hands and bowed before leaving.

Sandor marvelled at her consistent ability to solve problems to everyone's content. 

She rose from her chair. "That concludes this morning, thank you for staying. I am going back to my chambers now to speak with the seamstress about my gowns. You will be bored senseless, I insist on you having the rest of the day to yourself and I won't hear another word about it". She smiled at him sincerely.

"Aye. I'll have the rest of the day but I will see you to your chamber first". He swept his hand out in front of him and walked by her side. 

"Harry will not be happy about this morning, be on your guard". Sansa spoke softly as they reached her door.

"I don't doubt. Should I be worried about you?"

Sansa shook her head earnestly. "He won't harm me. He may attempt to strike out at you though". 

A hearty laugh escaped his lips. "I will bear that in mind. Although, I will smell him coming a mile off. That scent he favours stinks worse than any tart's boudoir."

She chuckled softly. " 'Til tomorrow, thank you Sandor".

"Have fun playing dress up, little bird".

He waited as she closed the door before moving away.


	9. Don't Test Me.

As he advanced down the corridor towards the stables, a delicious waft emanated from the kitchens. Sandor's stomach rumbled louder than any kraken and gurgled painfully. 

Sandor snuck in the doorway, he could see the stew pot had been left unattended on the side, as the staff bustled around readying meals for the rest of Winterfell. Seizing his chance, he crept forward and hurriedly filled a bowl from the pot, availing himself of a bread roll and holding it tight in his hand. A noise from an adjoining room startled him, so he hurriedly moved away with his meal. He walked around, deciding to return to his room to devour his ill gotten gains in peace.

A solitary seated figure in the Hall commanded his attention. "Lycas!" Sandor manoeuvred his frame into the bench opposite. "Great minds think alike!"

Lycas smiled. Before him sat a bowl of stew and an identical roll. "Sandor! Are we both hungry or just single minded in our thievery?" 

Sandor snorted, the spoon midway to his mouth. "Aye. Maybe a tad of both. Being in a bed and having regular meals has made me soft, I had none of this on the road for all those moons."

Lycas nodded. "I have come directly from a hard journey. The stew pot sang a song to me that I was only too happy to hear and powerless to resist". 

Sandor laughed again. "At least you are poetic in your pilfering, lad".

Lycas offered a wan smile but remained silent. 

"What troubles you?" Sandor became worried. "Lady Sansa didn't expect you back yet".

"My quest was much easier than anticipated."

"What quest was that?" Sandor's interest was piqued.

"I am not at liberty to say unless Lady Sansa allows it. It's imperative that no-one knows I've been on official business. If anyone asks, I had personal time off".

Sandor stared at him for a few moments. "You have my word"

"What has happened in my absence?" Lycas enquired.

Sandor related to him the events of the morning, plus an edited account of the argument on Harry's return.

"This is bad. Harry isn't going to let that slight go, nary a one of them. He has a vastly inflated ego and a very good memory." Lycas paled.

"Is there anything I should know about?" Sandor started.

Lycas hooted. "That is a very loaded question, we will have to address it with Lady Sansa".

"Address what with Lady Sansa?" Harry had once again crept up on Sandor. His figure swayed gently, Sandor knew from that alone that he had been in his cups in the time since he stormed out this morning.

"My Lord". Lycas inclined his head Harry respectfully. "I was just telling Sandor how we need to address some issues with Lady Sansa". 

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I am aware of that, Butcher's Boy. I was asking for specifics".

"Lycas is no butcher's boy, Lord Harry". Sandor's mouth worked fasted than his brain.

"Ah Dog. A Dog and a Butcher's Boy, you have both found your level with each, I see! I'm not fond of either of you in particular and I don't like the influence you are exerting over my wife". His voice shimmered with rage.

"Lady Sansa is a better judge of character than you give her credit for. My Lord". Sandor sneered openly at the upstart before him, the last two words were rooted in distaste.

"Obviously not, as she continues to allow the pair of you to poison her mind". 

"She is no dullard, she reaches her own conclusions". Sandor was matter of fact, aware that Lycas remained silent.

"Is it coincidence that for the first time in our marriage, she has taken against me? Since the moment you came before me in this very room. She has shamed me publicly and in private and compromised my position and masculinity. You may not realise but she deferred to me in everything before, Wardeness in name alone. Lady Stark raised a docile and obedient wife, willing to overlook anything with displeases her with an easy grace, you have changed that. I am unsure of how you have done it but rest assured, I will see you both your heads on the block as soon as possible. Mark my words. In the meantime, Dog and Butcher's Boy, a reminder of your station is in order". Harry moved aside and three of his men piled in behind him. "Have at them, lads. A lesson from the Vale's finest men is a lesson well taught". Sandor noted the self satisfied smirk on his lips as he moved behind the guards.

..............

Sandor turned to Lycas. "Go now, run to Lady Sansa and do not open the door for anyone but me. Go!" 

Lycas sped off through the other exit, which Harry had been remiss in covering. 

Sandor hooted in laughter and turned to address Harry, who was still lingering by the door, hiding behind his men. "You call these the finest men in the Vale? Fuck me bloody, even the decrepit serving wenches in Clegane Keep had more of the Warrior about them than these morons." The familiar sting of the Hound arose in his mind.

One lunged at him, Sandor sidestepped easily, seeing his intended move before it ever happened. Sandor grabbed the man bodily and dashed him into the wall, knocking him unconscious.

A second had jumped on his back while it was turned, an arm around his neck. Sandor snarled and ran backwards into the wall of the Hall. The man on his back loosened his grip when the solid stone wall crunched against his back. Sandor thought he heard a snap in the man's back but paid it no mind, he slid off Sandor like honey from a warm spoon.

The last and youngest guard had his sword drawn. "If you are going to pull that sword on me lad, you had best make damned sure to kill me because I will fuck you bloody". The guard made a half arsed attempt to charge at Sandor. With one arm aimed at the arm that the sword was held in, he knocked the sword to the floor. He balled his other fist up and hooked it into the guard's face, he fell screaming to the ground with what Sandor assumed was a broken jaw. 

Sandor turned to the door and Harry stood, slack jawed and paling. "The lesson you wished to teach me was that you Vale men are awful fighters and sloppy guards? Consider me schooled." A harsh guffaw left him throat. "What you have seen today is a rare example of my mercy. Be glad I am not the man I used to be or there would have been four bodies that no Maester could repair". Sandor took a half step closer to Harry as he punctuated his point. "Don't test me again, my new demeanour may slip all too easily." His eyes slid to the feet of the man before him, fear had cast his usual braggadocio aside. The esteemed Lord husband of the Wardeness of the North stood in a widening puddle of his own making, evidence of its path was wrote down the leg of his pale breeches. Sandor flicked his eyes back to Harry's face, before staring pointedly at the floor by his feet and then smirking at Harry's terrified face. He swept an exaggerated bow to the man, before spitting soundly at his feet. 

Sandor strode away, in search of Sansa and Lycas, his face grim. 

......................

"He did WHAT to you?" Sansa hopped to her feet. Lycas sat to her side in her solar.

"Aye, he tried to teach us a lesson but it backfired on him, fucking coward. He was pissing his breeches at the end of it, I shit you not". Sandor grinned at the memory of his humbled face.

"You didn't do anything to him did you?" Sansa enquired.

Sandor looked at her hard for a good few minutes before answering. "None other than scare him so bad, he filled his breeches as soundly as a swaddling babe. His guards won't be guarding for a long while yet. Why, would you care if I had?"

"Yes I bloody well would care!" Fire danced in the pale glaciers of her eyes. "You do anything to him, then he'll have you killed. Then Lycas, then me".

"He wouldn't fucking dare touch you!" Sandor spat his words in rage. "He might be a stupid cunt but he's got no death wish. He wouldn't live long after".

"It wouldn't matter, he's much more cunning then we have given him credit for". She collapsed on her chair. 

"What do you mean by that?" Sandor's sword hand twitched, lacking a pommel to grab on to.

"If I am right, then we shall soon find out". The fire had subsided from her eyes, leaving only sadness and uncertainty. The look on her face worried him greatly.

Sandor looked at Lycas and saw his normally cheerful face downcast.


	10. Leave Out All The Rest

Lycas knocked the door to Sandor's chamber. 

"Sandor? Lady Sansa needs to see you". 

Sandor nodded. "Is there anything wrong? It's late."

Lycas shook his head. "No, she just asked me to fetch you. I've been dismissed for the evening, I'll be in my chamber if she needs me".

"Aye. Goodnight Lycas. Sleep well".

Lycas smiled and waved as he turned in the direction of his chamber.

......................

"Little bird?" Sandor was alarmed to see no guards at her door and he knocked with more force than he should. He heard a scurrying in the room and the sound of something falling over coming from the inside. He hastily ran away from the door and barged it open with his shoulder. The Northern Oak gave very little, despite his mass and force working against it. Sandor grunted as the door opened from the inside. 

"Sandor! Are you ok?" Sansa's concerned face appeared from the inside of the chamber.

He grunted again non-committally.

She looked around at the corridor before yanking him inside the safety of her chambers and pushing him into a chair.

"What's the matter? Are you well? Why didn't you open the door?" The questions left Sandor's mouth in a long string.

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, he hadn't seen it in a long time. "I was making myself decent, I dismissed my handmaidens and I knocked my washbasin over in a fluster".

Sandor's eyes shut in relief. "I thought there was a scuffle going on in here. Where are the guards? I'm going to go and give them a round of fucks for slacking off! If they can't be arsed to guard your door then what are they playing at? Braiding each other's locks and whispering secrets like chamber wenches, no doubt..." His face grew hard with anger.

"That's not necessary, I told them you would be taking over". Her voice was smooth and soothing. The ball of anger in his chest disappeared as quickly as it had formed. "Do you need a Maester for your shoulder?" 

"Nah. I've had worse". Sandor replied.

"I don't doubt that but you have no need to suffer here..." 

"I'm not! Suffering is spending months and months hungry and cold, going from town to town, thinking you were dead. Then spending many more recovering". Sandor hadn't meant to reveal so much. "Then you turned up as Lady Hardyng and Wardeness of the North". Her married name left a nasty taste in his mouth.

"I'm here now. You found me". Sansa soothed. Her face caressed his scarred cheek.

"I spent months thinking you were dead and now you're alive, you're living in misery! That Hardyng cunt makes you miserable and treats you like shit. Why couldn't I have found you sooner?" The pent up anger of the situation started to flow.

"Sandor. It's not your fault, everything is all wrong. My parents and siblings should all be here too. The weight of the North should never have been mine to bear. Out of all of us, I am the least worthy and capable of the role. Robb, Bran and Rickon would have the respect of the people and would never have been saddled with an overbearing spouse such as mine. Arya would have run Harry through by now! Gods, she would never have allowed him free rule of her as I did. Her strength reflects my weakness." She paused to collect her thoughts. "I have to believe that the Gods kept me alive for a reason. You found me in Kings Landing and my survival is due in no small part to you. I'm home now. Lycas is a dear and trusted friend, I haven't had one of those in a very long time. He heard a rumour that Arya is still alive, imagine! It would make my life complete to see her again. I thought you were lost to me too but you came back, I can't tell you how happy that makes me. I won't let one odious little braggart of a husband ruin the life that so many people tried to take away from me." Her voice was even and soothing, her hand lingered on his cheek.

"What do you suggest?" Sandor's interest was peaked.

"I've spent my whole life doing my duty when it has cost me dear to do so, pleasing people and doing what it expected of me. It hasn't made me happy, has it? We need to start to live for us, leaving out all the rest". Sansa's hand pulled his face towards hers. 

Her warm lips caressed his gently.

"Little bird?" Sandor had often wondered over the years what it would be like to kiss her but now the opportunity had arisen, he was startlingly hesitant.

"Just us. Leave out all the rest". Her mouth found his with more urgency than before. She pulled away from him and rose to draw the heavy bolt on the main door.

.................

Sandor's mouth hung open as she turned back to him.

"What..."

Sansa shook her head. "Shhh." Her hand pulled the tie of her bed robe, revealing a short, almost sheer nightshift underneath. "If you don't want me then say the word. You will leave this room and I promise that we will never speak of this again". She shrugged the robe off and let it fall to the floor.

Sandor was speechless, not even a single word could find its way onto his lips. His eyes passed over every inch of her body. It was almost too much to process. Sansa took his silence for assent and moved closer towards him, her bare leg brushing his knee.

"What's it going to be, Sandor?" Her lips grazed his ear, he remained frozen to the spot. Her hair tickled his face and her scent filled his nostrils as he breathed her in.

A growl left his lips and he grabbed her roughly, pulling her down onto his lap. "You have no idea what you do to me, girl".

The startled look on her face gave way as understanding dawned on her. "Why don't you show me?"

Sandor pushed himself up and our of his seat, throwing her bodily over his shoulder. His one hand held her around the thighs, ensuring she wouldn't fall. His other hand explored the expanse of her leg, before finding her ass and giving it a firm slap. She squealed, not in protest.

Her voice was muffled by the fact her face was part way down his back but she made her desire clear, "Take me to bed, Sandor".  
....................

He covered the short distance to the bedchamber quickly and kicked the door with his foot. The room was dark save for the light of the fire and a few candles, scattered over the furniture and on wall sconces. Sandor placed her gently on her feet and bolted the bedchamber door behind them.

"Gods, Sandor. That's the most desired I've felt in a long time". Her beautiful face was illuminated by soft candlelight, she'd never looked so beautiful.

Sandor gave a throaty chuckle. "I haven't even fucking started to show you how much I want you, little bird". His mouth found her neck and showered kisses along the length of it. Sansa threw her head back in pleasure, Sandor's arms kept her from falling. Her hands travelled over his broad chest, taking in every line of his frame. With a tug, she pulled the thin cotton tunic up.

"Take it off, I will see you". 

A wolfish grin played on Sandor's lips as he jerked the clothing over his head. The sharp intake of breath from her was gratifying.

"You are magnificent". Her hands passed hungrily over his chest and shoulders. 

"How well do you like your shift?" Sandor enquired with a smirk on his face.

Sansa gave a small smile as she realised what he was asking. "Not at all, it was a gift from Harry".

Sandor needed no further encouragement, he gathered the fabric in his fists and ripped the shift with more force than was required. The fabric split easily from the neckline to the hem in one smooth jolt. It lay ragged and discarded at her feet.

"Fuck.Me!" His jaw hit the floor as he was finally able to look upon her, completely naked.

Sansa tugged on his breeches, lacking the strength to lay waste to them, as he had to her shift. She watched as he threw them to the floor. "I need you, Sandor".

He hurtled forward and bundled her on to the bed, his lips not leaving hers. The atmosphere in the room had changed from relaxed playfulness, it now smouldered with the crackling tension of unfulfilled lust. His hands roamed over every inch of her body, paying particular attention to her breasts. She lay pinned underneath him but ran her hand along the length of his stiffened shaft, Sandor panted under her touch.

She guided his cock to her woman's place and nodded in assent as he eased it in. "Fuck!" Sandor was the first to break the silence. "Am I hurting you?"

Sansa shook her head. "Show me how much you want me, Sandor".

He gave a throaty chuckle as he began pounding into her, the force propelled her up further up the bed but his arms held her steady

"Like this?" Sandor watched her face contort in pleasure, her mouth a round O of surprise.

"Gods yes!" Her pleasure spurred him on to a more frenzied cadence, he was aware of nothing other than her.

"Little bird. It's been a long time since I... I'm not going to last long...." He was aware of his release creeping in.

She dismissed his concern with a small shake of her head, her nails dug into his back as she prolonged her pleasure. 

"Fuck!" Sandor withdrew quickly as he felt the onset on his release. His seed pooled on the bed, in between her thighs.

......................

They lay intertwined in the time following their lovemaking. 

"Little bird, do you regret what we just did?" He became agitated, lest she regard their coupling as a mistake.

"Not at all. Do you?" Sansa stroked his thigh from her place beside him. 

"I couldn't begin to regret that if I tried. Except, your husband and every Lord and bannerman from the Wall to the Vale will want me dead for this. It would be worth it". Sandor joked.

"I should have left with you, when you offered me the chance. We could have been lying in our marriage bed now". Sansa's voice was taut with regret.

"No little bird. If you had left with me on that night, we would both be dead by now. My anger and liking for wine would have limited my ability to keep us safe. The Lannisters would have caught us and you would have been executed right alongside me, Joffrey wouldn't have let you live. You did the right thing in saying no." 

"How can you say that? I'm stuck bound to a man I hate. I call him a man but he barely qualifies as that. He makes me sick". Sansa sat bolt upright in her anger.

"They would never have given you to me. Even if I had stolen you and claimed you as my own, the target on our would have been much too large. They wouldn't have let us go". He pulled her back down towards him and held her close to his chest. "You are Wardeness of the North, it's where you were meant to be. Even that old soak Cersei could see that, why do you think she hated you so much?"

"When we were taken to the bedding ceremony after the wedding..." Sansa began.

Sandor growled. "No!"

She placed her finger over his lips to quieten him, he nipped it playfully with his teeth. "Shush. When we took to the marriage bed for the first time. It was horrible. Harry took my maidenhead..."

Sandor growled again but she paid it no mind.

"He took my maidenhead but I imagined it was you. Even when Harry wasn't climbing in the cunt of every woman he could, he was still a prick. The only person I want on this Earth, I can't have, not in any proper way that matters. I won't let anyone take you away from me, not now". Sandor felt a tear roll from her face and onto his chest.

Sansa sobbed into his chest, Sandor could do nothing other than stroke her hair and wipe her tears away. He could promise her that he'd never leave her side willingly but if anyone happened to find out about what they had just done, the Northern Lords themselves would convene to take his head and even the power of the Wardeness of the North wouldn't stop them.


	11. Dangerous Game

The morning crept up quicker than any had before. He had intended to slip out of the room and return to his chamber but couldn't bring himself to leave her, he had never imagined waking up with her and wanted to make the most of it. Sandor left the bed and decided to dress, cleaning up the evidence of their passion as he moved around the room. He stoked the fire and burnt the ripped shift, wishing as he watched the material dissolve into the flame that he could make Harry disappear just as cleanly. He poked around the dresser and found a clean shift for her to clothe herself in. His guard senses snapped into motion and he unbolted the bedchamber door to check that the outer main door was still locked.

Sansa made small noises as she slept and it stabbed at Sandor's heart to watch her sleep. The morning sun kissed her skin and sent her hair dancing into flame. Sandor realised with a pang that he would never have the legitimate right to have her in his bed, or he in hers. She would never be his. He could claim her as often as she allowed but he had no right to call Sansa his own, not in public and not even in his own head, it would be an untruth. Society would not accept an unfaithful wife as they would readily forgive a straying husband, it would ruin Sansa. He knew that the odds were still stacked against women. It was not something he had considered before. A blind eye was usually cast towards men cheating on their wives, the wives were afforded no such quarter. A cheating wife brought shame upon a House but even Ned sodding Stark could bring a bastard home and his honour was not compromised. Women were regarded as chaste maidens, loyal wives or whores in this society and not much in between. Sandor shook his head at how she had made him think of such. The inner workings of society had never given him pause to think before, he had seen it in action in that incestuous viper's pit of Kings Landing but it never held his interest enough to really think about it. There was no avoiding it now, he had fucked the Wardeness of the North and that made it something he should be concerned about.

He sank on to the bed nearest her and stroked her hair as she slept. She had hinted at great suffering in their time apart, Baelish had looked at her in a way he had no right to in Kings Landing, Sandor longed to ask what had happened in the time she had alluded to. A cold shudder made its way down his spine. 

She stirred in her sleep and it made Sandor smile. Never in a hundred lifetimes would he have thought that he could lie with Sansa Stark. Not even the odd hallucination of the Stranger could convince him that it was a possibility. He had seen her heavy with his child, wishful thinking no doubt. Harry had made a jab about her barren womb - aye, even if she could conceive, him getting a bastard in her belly would seal both of their fates for the worse. Any child of their illicit union would be presumed to be Harry's - a product of a legitimate marriage. Sandor's fists balled up at the thought of his child being raised a Hardyng. The only other option would be to tell the truth and that would be disastrous for all of them. Sandor shook his head hard. He must continue ensuring that his seed never released in her, he had to keep them both safe.

..................

"Sansa?" He whispered in her ear. 

"Mmmmm?" She roused herself.

"I have to go, no-one can catch us here like this".

"I wish you could stay. I should like to feel you in me again". Her sleepy face smiled lazily.

He felt a stirring in his groin at her words. "You know I'd lock the door and fuck you bloody all day long little bird but it can't be, not now".

"Mmmmm." Her one eye opened. "I shall hold you to that. You'd better not be promising something you can't deliver".

He growled low but was distracted by a faint noise beyond the bedchamber door. The bedchamber door was still open and the handle to the main chamber door was rattling. "My lady?"

"Shit! Your maids are here!" Sansa shot out of bed and pulled on the clean shift Sandor threw at her. Sandor ripped off the soiled sheet from the bed and held it tightly. 

"I'm just on my way!" She called out loudly.

"I'm ready but I can't get out without meeting them". Sandor turned to her.

......................

The handle continued rattling as the maids tried in earnest to get in.

"Quick! Sansa ran to the edge of the room and pressed on one of the wood panels. It gave way and opened inward. "Get in! I'll get rid of them, sit tight". She pushed him in and pulled the panel shut. 

Sandor sat in darkness, as cramped as it was possible to be, still clutching the balled up sheet in his hands. He heard the maids bustle around the room, emptying a ewer and helping Sansa change. The minutes merged together and he lost track of the time he had spent in the small space when the panel opened from the outside. 

"I've sent them to the kitchens on a fool's errand." A small smile played on her lips. 

They made their way quickly to the main door. "You know, they said I have a healthy flush and a smile on my face that becomes me. You look well on me, my Lord". She grinned impishly.

"Damned right I do". He pecked her on the lips as he opened the door and made to leave. Before he could, she grabbed a handful of his tunic and pulled him back, crushing her lips to his with some urgency. "This is a dangerous game we are playing, little bird".

She kissed him a final time and released him. "And I would play it with no other". She closed the door slowly, her eyes didn't leave his face.


	12. The Gods Don't Listen

Harry kept a low profile for the next few days, taking men with him and riding out early in the morning, before even the tradesmen had begun to stir within Winterfell's walls. 

"Where do you think he's going?" Sansa asked Sandor as the clattering of hooves outside drew further away. She propped herself up on one elbow, letting the sheet slide over her naked torso. Sandor rolled onto his stomach to look at her.

"I dunno. Has he got friends? Kin in these parts?" He shifted on his belly to allow him access to the skin above her hips. He traced a pattern over the exposed flesh.

She shuddered under his touch. "No. He has whores, that's about it."

Sandor guffawed. "The coffers must be running low with the amount he goes out, he's barely here."

Sansa shrugged slightly. "That suits me just fine. I've always maintained a separate fund for his needs so that he doesn't dip into the essential coin. Not that he knows that. I'd rather the coin be in Winterfell's treasury than a whore's purse. It would all be gone now, had he known."

"Clever bird." He kissed the hip he had been tracing on. 

She shifted around and snuggled up to his frame, he threw an arm over her to draw her in closer. "Mmmm. This is nice. All the days and nights I was miserable almost seem worth it now".

A flash of his hallucination of his conversation with The Stranger came to mind and before he could stop himself, he found himself asking. "Why did you pray to The Gods to end your suffering? Were things really so bad that you would petition the Stranger himself to take you?"

Sansa shot up from her place next to him. "I never.....How....What..." Her expression was one he had never seen her wear before. A mixture of shame, guilt and more besides.

"I'm serious Sandor, who told you? How could you possibly have known that? I told no-one. My prayers were in my own head, I never said the words aloud. I couldn't have said them aloud, the shame of anyone hearing would have been too great...." Sansa was beside herself with questions as they tumbled from her mouth, one after another.

Sandor sat up and caught her hand. Taking it into his and holding it against his chest to ease her agitation. "Little bird, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. I'll have your story from you first".

...........

"After you left following the Blackwater, the Lannisters married me to Tyrion. It was a sham so they wouldn't lose my claim. Tyrion was kind to me, we never shared a bed in a true sense as husband and wife, for that I am grateful. Following Joffrey's death, Littlefinger spirited me away to the Eyrie and my time there was miserable. I lived as his bastard, Alayne, for a long time. Aunt Lysa tried to kill me because she thought I had taken a fancy to Petyr and she was obsessed by him. She almost succeeded in throwing me from the Moon Door!"

"Slow down little bird, take your time". Sandor could anxiety cloud Sansa's face, her feet were restless.

"Baelish loved my mother and saw me as a replacement, he kept kissing me and I was scared he'd try to take my maidenhead. He dyed my hair dark so no-one would recognise me. Eventually, he murdered Lysa, pushed her from the Moon Door right after she tried to fling me out. I suppose I should be grateful of that, my own Aunt almost murdered me." Sansa looked down at her hand, still ensconced in Sandor's.

"I lived as his bastard until he could allow Sansa Stark to re-emerge and retake Winterfell. He arranged the match with Harry and then everything moved quickly. Baelish rebuilt Winterfell with his own coin, that's why you didn't recognise it from when you were here with the Lannisters, all those many years ago. It's grander than it was, different...He had me proclaimed Wardeness of the North shortly before his body turned up..." She stopped again and collected her thoughts. 

"I fell on my knees once in the Eyrie for the Stranger to end my suffering. I missed my home and family. I didn't know where you were, some said you were raiding the Saltpans but I knew it wasn't you. I realised that someone obviously managed to take your helm from you and I doubted it would have been willingly on your part, so the chances were great that you'd be dead. Everything was different, even my hair. I wasn't allowed to be Sansa. I had to call him 'father' and he dressed me in all manner of gowns that were too tight in places they had no right being tight in...The Stranger didn't take me and it seems none other of the Gods were listening either, old or new. I even called upon foreign Gods whose names I read in a book of Robin's! I petitioned them all. The very Gods I have prayed to since I was a child abandoned me when I needed them the most! The second time was after Harry's true nature shone through and that he eventually meant to push me aside and take over. I still got no response". 

Sandor kissed the back of her hand gently. "The Stranger was listening well enough, little bird. It just wasn't your time."

Sansa gaped at him. "How can you know that?"

His answer was simple. "I spoke to him".

...........................

"You spoke to The Stranger? To the actual Stranger?" She was incredulous, shock was evident on her face.

"Aye. I didn't think much of him at first but I got used to him".

"How?" Sansa's attention was rapt.

"After Arya left me on the Trident, I guess I was as close to death as you can get without being dead. Or maybe I was dead, I don't know. He came for me and showed me my past, as well as other glimpses of my life and yours. I saw your wedding to Tyrion, he couldn't cloak you, could he? You had to kneel and everyone laughed at you both. He told me you wanted to die, I just didn't know why. I saw Gregor burn me again, I saw all sorts". Sansa took his hand and kissed the back of it.

"I'm sorry". She whispered. 

"Don't be. It made me realise that while there is breath in my body, I can change the future. The past has gone right enough. Elder Brother healed my body and helped sort my mind out. My anger and hatred fed the Hound, I had to let it go, otherwise I would never have found you". He gave her a lopsided smile.

"Do you ever feel the urge to revert back to the person you were?" 

"Aye. Felling those Vale cunts felt good. The person I was would have killed them all and not given a fuck about the consequences. The Hound does stir and I can't say I don't like it. It's a familiar cloak I can don when I feel the need but it doesn't smother me anymore. I could murder Harry every which way and still have energy left to rip his head off and stuff it up his own arsehole but Elder Brother helped me control my urges. It's for the best. Although hearing Harry be disrespectful to you does make me want to slit his throat and piss in the hole". 

Sansa laughed. "I can't say my thoughts have been proper in that respect either, hopefully Elder Brother can help me with my anger too."

Sandor shook his head. "No little bird. If Harry can manage to rile even you, the gentlest of people in the realm - then all hope truly is lost for him. Elder Brother may be skilled but there's no cure for Harry being a fucking prick, it's just who he is".

Her body gave way to a laughing fit which shook Sandor as he lay next to her. "Never a truer word spoken".

"Now that is out of the way, I will demonstrate to you how glad I am that I found you. Maybe we both need reminding". Sandor gave her a firm slap on her rump and wrapped his legs over hers, his desire evident from his stiffening cock.

..........................

Sandor hadn't long snuck out of Sansa's chambers when he heard a knock at his chamber door. He knew from the short walk that most of the servants were not yet working, he could smell the bakehouse ovens but the corridors were all empty and peaceful. 

"Lycas! How you doing lad? I'm surprised you knocked, you have a habit of towering over me when I wake up. Not many men can say the same..." Sandor japed as he let Lycas in. 

"Yes. I would have attempted that again, in all my unrequited lovesickness for you..." Lycas smiled playfully. "But your bed has been notably empty for a good while now. When I have attempted to speak to you privately, of course! Not that I linger around for you while you slumber elsewhere".

Sandor's face blanched. "Aye. I have been warming the bed of a kitchen wench..."

"You needn't lie to me, Sandor. I'm not blind. She is the happiest I've ever seen her. You need to be more careful though, people may notice the way you look at each other. That's not why I am here..."

Lycas proceeded to share important information with Sandor which alarmed and angered him in equal measures. 

"She cannot know about this! I won't have this put on her shoulders now". Sandor was forceful in his point.

"We must tell her! She is the Wardeness and it is her right to know. We can't keep this from her, it has the capacity to go very badly wrong and it would mean disaster". Lycas wasn't cowed in the presence of his anger.

"We need to be one step ahead and plan our moves now..." Lycas laid out his plan and Sandor could only marvel at his forethought. "Are we in agreement? We send the raven now and by the will of the Gods, it will get there in time. No rider we send could get there as quickly...." Lycas started. 

"Aye. Send your speediest bird. I tell you now Lycas, she cannot know about this, not even a single fathom that anything isn't as it should be. You go now and take loyal Northmen with you, do what you can but take no risks. I would come too but she would be suspicious". Sandor said earnestly.

"I'll send as many ravens as we can spare ahead too, we can't be too cautious". Lycas and Sandor sprang into action, the sense of foreboding was resting uneasily on Sandor's mind.


	13. Bear and Maiden

Sansa asked Sandor a question he wasn't suspecting on their early morning walk through the Godswood.

"Sandor. What's going on? Where's Lycas?" She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him.

"Lycas had to attend to some personal business, he said he's sorry he couldn't come and see you before he left". Sandor kept his face as blank as possible.

"Lycas has never left me without my express permission, not that I would withhold it of course". She stared off thoughtfully.

"He's a good lad". Sandor stared at the far off point that had captured Sansa's attention. 

"Why is it that you haven't left my side for a single minute? You guard every door and only leave me alone to bathe. I get the feeling you'd guard me while I bathe, should decency allow it".

"Fuck decency! I'd get right on in there with you but the tub was not built for a man of my stature." He smiled.

"You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you? Am I a target? I'm not a scared girl at Kings Landing any more, Queen Daenerys entrusted the North to me, I need to know if there is trouble. Please Sandor." She turned to face him, a worried look crossed her face.

"Little Bird. If anyone tried to hurt you, I'd kill them with my bare hands. You have nothing to fear". He kissed her hand gently, hoping his promise would distract her from the question he hadn't answered.

In truth, Sandor was very concerned. It had been almost a sennight since Sandor had seen Lycas and he'd heard no word from him for over three days. Harry had kept a low profile too, all was quiet in the corridors of Winterfell.

..................

"Sandor? Can we ride out somewhere? It's a fair day today and I need some fresh air. The walk in the Godswood ignited my need for a change of scenery". They sat breaking their fast in her chamber, . 

Sandor ripped heartily into a cooked breakfast of bacon, egg and blood sausage while she nibbled delicately on fruit and yoghurt. He chewed thoughtfully. "Aye little bird, as long as the weather holds, we only had a light dusting of snow in the Godswood. I'll have the stableboys ready some horses".

She smiled gratefully. "I have something for you, I'll go and get it".

He shot her a quizzical glance but said no more as she ran back to her bedchamber. 

...............

She reappeared shortly after holding a large bundle in her hands. "You must close your eyes! I don't want you seeing it until it's in your hands".

Sandor acquiesced and shut his eyes, placing his cutlery down on the table. "If you fall naked into my arms then I know for sure that all my namedays have come at once".

He heard her soft laugh to the side of him. "Surely that's not so much an occasion for all of your namedays as just what we do most nights these days?"

He nodded. "Aye. And I still can't believe what a lucky bastard I am".

He felt a soft kiss on the side of his face as he felt the weight of the bundle fall across his lap. "What's that?"

"Open your eyes and see!"

He opened his eyes to see a large oilcloth on his lap. He peeled it back gingerly. His mouth dropped open. Placed in the middle of a bundle was the most beautiful sword he had ever seen. The pommel was a snarling animal. He thought it a dog at first but as he turned it around, it was a Wolf on one side and a Dog on the other. The pommel was skilfully made, both elements blended carefully so that the difference in animal was only discernible by looking very closely at it. He gaped at the smooth polished metal of the blade, razor sharp and balanced. He stood up and held it aloft, swinging and jabbing it. He turned to Sansa. "This is the best gift I've ever received and the finest sword ever to touch my hands. Little bird, you shouldn't have".

She smiled in relief. "I am glad you like it, I had it made at our forge. It suits a man of your stature well. I've seen you train with the other men and use the odd swords, now you have one of your own. Don't underestimate what you mean to me, Sandor. I'd give you Valeryian steel if I could but I don't have any". Sansa's face fell, Sandor remembered what happened to her father's sword, Ice.

"I shall think of you whenever I polish it". He quirked an eyebrow at her.

She smirked "As well you should. I trust you will allow me to assist with the maintenance of such a big sword?"

Sandor snorted. "You've been doing fine so far." He placed the sword across his chair and pulled her close to him. "I love you, Sansa Stark."

Tears sprang from her eyes. "I love you too Sandor, more than anything." Sandor said nothing and held her tighter. "I have a scabbard ready for you, will you bring it with you on our ride?"

Sandor nodded. "It's never leaving my back again. It's a reminder of how the most beautiful woman in the world loves me".

Sansa snuggled in closer to him.

......................

They rode lazily away from Winterfell. 

"Where are we headed for?" Sandor's horse trotted obediently.

"I don't know. It's good to be out in the fresh air, I haven't rode out for a long time". Her white mare plodded on under her instruction. 

"Pick a direction". Sandor insisted.

Sansa looked around her carefully. "That way!" 

They headed towards the forest.

................

They chatted for most of the journey, until Winterfell was far behind them. "I meant to ask you, what happened to Stranger?" Sansa enquired delicately. 

Sandor fell quiet. "He was with me when Elder Brother found me on the Trident. He followed us back to the Quiet Isle, stubborn bugger! I rode out on him when I left, I must have been near here when your men found me but no-one mentioned Stranger being with me. I guess he got spooked and ran off. I miss that old bastard".

"I am sure that he is around somewhere, I will make enquiries." Sansa's tone was soothing but it couldn't mend the scar that losing Stranger had left on his heart. "My mare is called Maiden, she is a good girl." Sansa's gloved hand fussed Maiden's mane as she spoke.

Sandor smiled thinly. "Aye, just like her mistress. Does that make my horse the Bear?" 

She giggled. "It could. Your horse hasn't had a rider for a while, no-one named him properly".

"Bear it is then, to go with the Maiden".

"Shall we stop for something to eat? I could do with stretching my legs. There should be a small cabin near here. Father built it as shelter for travellers in these parts. The weather turns on a pin sometimes". Sansa pointed over to a clearing beyond the trees.

Sandor made for the clearing and the small log cabin came into view. The first thing Sandor noticed about it was the hoof and footprints in the thin sprinkle of snow. "Someone has been here recently, Little Bird. These prints look fresh".

"Travellers, no doubt. They move on when the weather breaks."

"You need to stay here while I check it out." Sandor jumped off his horse and tied the bridle to a tree. "Stay put and once I know it's safe, I'll come and get you". He drew the sword from his back.

"I'm not staying here without you, I'll come too!" Sansa objected.

"No! You need to stay here." Sandor was insistent.

"NO! I am coming with you". Sansa was forceful in her point. She dismounted her horse and tied her up next to Bear. "Pardon? What was that? You were mumbling". She turned to face him, one hand planted on her hip.

"I said that you bloody Stark women are all the same, won't do as you're told". Sandor realised how much Sansa looked like her mother. He had seen that exact same expression on Catelyn Stark's face when the Court visited Winterfell, all those many years ago. He said nothing as he crept forward towards the door. The door handle turned quickly and the door swung inwards. He could feel Sansa at his back, so he pushed her away slightly to give him room to pivot around.

The room was empty, save for a chair underneath the window and a body lying across the hearth.


	14. Promise Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There may be triggers for domestic violence in this chapter, Harry strikes Sansa twice.
> 
> There is also a discussion of injuries resulting from torture. It's not too gory, just thought I would mention it.
> 
> Sorry for not mentioning it before, tags have been added.

"Fuck!" Sandor sheathed his sword. 

"Oh Gods!" Sansa's hands flew to her mouth. 

"Poor devil!" Sandor moved nearer. "Wait here". He edged closer to see what condition the corpse was in. As he moved nearer, his blood ran cold. "Lycas!"

Sansa shot forward and rushed to his side. "Sandor! Is he dead?" Sansa was weeping for her friend.

He flipped him over quickly and moved him away from the hearth. He pressed his ear to Lycas's chest. "No, he is still breathing but he is deathly cold".

Sandor grabbed the chair and dashed it hard against the wall of the cabin, smashing it to pieces. "I'll light the fire quick, he needs all the warmth we can give him". Sandor rose quickly and sparked the wood into fire.

"Lycas? Can you hear me?" He removed his thick cloak and lay it over his friend, covering him from him from neck to toe, with material spare. Lycas was in a more dire state that Sandor had realised. 

The boy's face was bruised purple and black all over, his one eye was swollen shut and his nose was sticking out at an irregular angle. Blood had run from his nose and lips and pooled into his neck. Sandor lifted the cloak and the thin tunic up that was covering Lycas and confirmed what he had thought - someone had lashed him. Sandor's fury bubbled quickly to the surface and he wasn't sure he could keep it in check. Someone had tortured Lycas and left him in his own filth to die.

An eyelid fluttered open and he tried to scream. "Shhh. Lycas, It's Sandor. Lady Sansa is here with us. You are safe". His frantic breathing slowed as Sandor's words sank in but the pain must have been too much, his body contorted with agony at his injuries. 

"Lycas. What happened?" Sansa appeared by the side of Sandor. 

"Harry...coming back". Lycas managed to get only three words out before pain claimed him and plunged his world into darkness. 

"Sandor!" Sansa screamed, clawing at Lycas to wake him up. 

"He's passed out, Little bird. It's for the best while he is in pain, just until we can get him to the Maester".

"Did he say Harry did this?" Sansa was incredulous.

"It seems so. We won't know until he wakes up again". Sandor's face was grim. 

"How do we get him back?" Sansa paced.

"We'll need to ride back and fetch help, he'll have to stay here by himself until then". 

"No! I'm not leaving him!" Sansa shouted.

"And I'm not leaving you. Neither can you ride by yourself. It's the only way I can keep you safe". 

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. 

"Will he die while we go to fetch help?" Sansa's voice was small and scared.

"It's a possibility. He's a crafty bugger though, he'll live just to prove us wrong". Sandor pulled her close to him and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Leave the fire going, otherwise he will weaken from the cold in our absence".

"Wait! You haven't got your cloak, you'll freeze!" Sansa shouted.

"Ah fuck." He hadn't considered that.

The sound of hooves outside distracted their attention. Sandor ran to the window, his face set in a grimace as he turned back to her. "Excellent. Your husband is here".

Sansa cursed softly. "Let me do the talking". She pulled him close and kissed him soundly. "Stay here. I won't have us all perish unnecessarily".

Sandor moved to object.

"Promise me! Swear on my life that you'll only come out if I shout you, no matter what happens" Her hands beat his chest softly. 

Sandor said nothing but kissed her harder. 

She back away from him slowly and made her way to the door of the cabin, to face her husband.

......................

Sandor stood behind the door, out of the line of sight of Harry and his party, he counted 5 Vale men. He didn't bother including Harry in this figure. He peeked around and saw his beloved Sansa walking down to where the group was. Her posture was unflinching, she looked every inch the Guardian of the North.

"Well met husband, fancy seeing you here!" Sansa's tone was mocking.

"Ah wife. You should be at Winterfell, should you not? You may be Wardeness of the North but you are still a woman. I have socks that require darning and clothes repairs that need your attention." Harry dismounted his horse, turning to his men in appreciation of his own joke.

Sandor couldn't see his little bird's face but he imagined that it matched her icy tone. "Oh husband of mine. You pay considerable coin to have your baser needs met by multiple whores. I'm sure they'd be happy to attend to your garment repairs too. Especially seen as you pay them very handsomely and your lovemaking doesn't take up too much of their time". Sandor smirked and heard a strangled snigger come from one of the Vale men.

Harry advanced on Sansa and backhanded her across the face. Sandor snarled, more than ready to pounce but also conscious of the vow Sansa had made him swear.

"Wardeness or no, you are still a wife to be reprimanded by her husband. Know your place!" The anger from Harry was almost palpable. His charming demeanour had abandoned completely.

"I beseech you, Harry. Do not strike me again". Sansa rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. 

"Ahh yes. That's the tone that suits you best, wife. But why? Is your pet Dog lurking around these parts? The word I have received from my men around Winterfell is that the pair of you are quite inseparable. I wonder, have you been fucking the Hound in my absence? It's as well someone has use of your cunt, as.... " Sandor could see Harry looking around him.

"I wonder whether the mention of his name could force you to void your bladder, as the mere sight of him can?" Sansa mocked him.

Harry backhanded her on the other cheek, which flung her to the floor. Sandor was itching to finish him but hung back, honouring Sansa's request. To Sandor's surprise, he heard raucous laughter coming from Sansa's lips. Harry looked equally as shocked. 

"Stop playing games, girl. I won't hold back much longer". Sandor whispered to her back, willing her to hear.

"One man used to beat me to make himself feel better. You are just like Joffrey! I'll hand it to you though, at least you beat your women yourself and not have one of your lackeys do it for you. Joffrey used to have me beaten me in public and now he is dead." From her position on the floor, she looked at the shocked men behind Harry. "Say, good men of the Vale. Would your fathers be proud of the men you are, allowing him to beat the Wardeness of the North and a Stark, no less? I wonder Harry has promised you for participating in an attack against me? You are almost as deep North as you can be, his abuse of me won't go unanswered. How would you have history remember you? It makes no matter, Harry shall not strike me again. I am undecided on your fates."

Harry turned to them as they muttered amongst themselves. "You've seen for yourselves, she is ranting in madness! Let's make sure the Butcher's boy is truly dead and then head back, we can dump her body in a ditch on the way. We'll deal with the Dog as we need to, best to avoid him if we can".

"I had reservations about you before we wed, Harry the Heir. You are as just grasping a prick as I believed. You have my thanks for proving me right!"

Sandor lurched out of the door as he saw Harry swing his foot back to kick Sansa while she was on the floor. Before he could get to her, Harry was falling to the floor. Sansa shot to her feet holding a bloodied dagger. Harry howled and clutched the thigh that she had plunged the blade into. Sandor used the distraction to cut down three of the stunned guards. One managed to ride off and he grabbed the last, one punch rendered the man unconscious.

He ran to Sansa and cupped her face in his hand, stroking the purple bloom that was spreading over her cheeks. "Why wouldn't you let me help you? Watching him hit you.." A growl emanated from the darkest depths of his body. It had taken him right back to the Throne Room, watching Knights of the Kingsguard beat her when she was just a terrified girl.

"I needed him alive. I managed to goad him into confirming a suspicion I had. You would have killed him outright - with good reason. He will not get away with this. There are worse fates than a quick death". Sansa placed a hand over his, which was still cupping her cheek. 

A small noise from their feet distracted Sandor's attention from Sansa. He saw Harry, still clutching his thigh. his blue eyes were wide with shock. "You!"

Sandor started towards him but Sansa held him back. "We need him alive". Sandor shrugged off her hand. 

"Beat her and try to kick her, would you?" Sandor swung his foot back and kicked him hard. "How does that feel, big man? You'd hit a lady but the last time I challenged you, you pissed your breeches. Have at me now, you fucking coward!" Sandor shouted at the cowering man. "Be glad she's here to save you, or I'd be raping your fucking corpse by now!" Harry's eyes were wide with fear. Sandor knelt down by the side of him and stuck his large index finger into the wound in Harry's thigh, Harry screamed in pain. "You'll never touch her again. I don't want to see you looking in her general direction, else I will fucking kill you where you stand and no-one on this fucking Earth could stop me. You think you made Lycas suffer? I'd make you beg for death, as I would inflict pain on you that you can't begin to imagine. Death would be a mercy. Yes, maybe I'd keep you as a plaything". A cruel grin twisted Sandor's face. Harry shook his head vehemently. Sandor jabbed his finger deeper into the wound before withdrawing it and wiping the blood onto Harry's cloak. The noise from Harry stopped abruptly as he passed out.

"Sandor". Sansa said softly. 

He turned around and rose to his feet. 

"We must get back as soon as possible, Lycas needs a Maester. Check the saddlebags for rope and truss them up, they can't be trusted not to run. Not that Harry probably could, my dagger made a good job of it". She smiled archly at Harry's unconscious body. "We might need more breeches for that one too".

............

Sandor lifted Lycas as gently as he could and placed him across his own horse, he rode alongside him, keeping him upright. Sansa occupied her horse and led the horses that carried Harry and his man. 

The odd processional rode back to Winterfell, to deal with the aftermath.


	15. Treachery

Sandor sighed in relief as Winterfell loomed on the horizon.

The lookout's shouts went up as they neared. "Open the gates for the Wardeness! Fetch the Maester, someone is injured". The great main gates creaked into action, allowing the motley party to pass through. Sandor spurred his horse on and set the pace, eager for Lycas to be attended to. 

Several people rushed forward as they passed quickly. Sandor dismounted quickly and bellowed for the Maester, removing Lycas gently from his place across the horse. He rearranged the 3 dead men's cloaks around Lycas, eager not to allow the cold to creep in. The Maester rushed forward. "He's been tortured, mind the injuries on his stomach and back. We kept him as warm as we could but I don't know how long he was exposed to the cold for. He's been unconscious for a long time now". Sandor whispered in his ear. The Maester nodded earnestly and signalled to his assistants, they sped away with Lycas on a stretcher. 

Sandor assisted Sansa from her horse and she sprang into action. "Fetch the Master-at-Arms. Lord Harry will be placed in the cells immediately. Have the Maester see to his leg wound as soon as he has seen to Lycas. I want him guarded by Northmen and Northmen only. Have Harry's man placed in a seperate cell and guarded similarly."

A band of Vale men came hurrying across the courtyard, Sandor stood in front of Sansa. "What is the meaning of this?" One man shouted. "Why is Lord Harry being jailed like a common crook?"

Sansa took the measure of the man answering the question. "Because he is a common crook".

The Vale men erupted into outraged shouting. Sandor drew his sword and pointed it at the group of men. "Any of you Vale cunts who dare to call the Wardeness a liar will taste the sharp end of my sword. Who will be first?"  

The Vale men quietened. "Until we can ascertain the depth of his treachery. I must assume that all Vale men are conspirators. You must all go willingly to the cells, I will have no more blood shed today than is necessary." Sansa nodded as the guards showed the Vale men to the cells. "Make sure that's all of them please". She whispered to the guard nearest to her. 

Sandor sheathed his sword and took her arm. "You need to get in the warmth, my Lady." Sansa nodded in agreement and allowed him to escort her to her chambers, she was silent.

Sandor opened the chamber door for her. "You!" He pointed to a startled looking handmaiden. "Draw Lady Sansa a bath and dress her in the warmest clothes she has. She needs wine, a good hot meal and a well stoked fire. Do this now. Quickly!" The maids bustled around and left the chamber as the last word left his mouth. Sandor placed her gently in a chair. 

"Little bird, you need to eat and get warm. I'll be right outside the door if you need me". Sandor spoke gently to her, she seemed to be in shock.

"No! Stay with me. You need to eat, rest and be warm too". Sansa's tone was desperation itself.

"No little bird, it wouldn't be proper". Sandor said softly. 

"Fuck proper! I just want you to hold me and tell me everything will be alright. Please". Shades of the Sansa he had known at Kings Landing shone through the strong demeanour she had armoured herself in. 

Sandor chuckled softly. "And I will. For now, you need to be well. There can be no question of your honour. Any lingering Vale spies will use anything they can to help Harry".

"You are mine and nothing will make me let you go". Sansa's arms gripped his neck and she clung to him. Sandor dropped a kiss on her head and pushed her away gently as the door opened, the maids bustled in with the hot water they had fetched for for her bath. 

Sandor rose. "Lady Sansa, I will be right outside the door if you need me".

Sansa was wide eyed as she looked at him. "Thank you, Sandor".

 

......................

 

Sandor stood outside her door for a full hour until her maids left.

She was seated at the table, freshly bathed and wearing a thick robe.

"Sandor. You must go and bathe now, eat well and sleep. I will send for you if I need you. Guards will be coming to watch my door soon". Sansa was insistent. 

"No. I will stay right here for now". The ache in his feet had dissipated as he sat.

Sansa's voice warranted no argument. "I wasn't asking you, Sandor. You must be well too. We are already down Lycas, I can't lose anyone else."

"Shall we see him later?" Sandor enquired.

"I've made enquiries as to his condition, I don't wish to visit if we would be in the Maester's way. I know his injuries are very serious." Sansa's voice cracked slightly as she finished the sentence. 

"Little bird, don't worry. All will be right". Sandor pulled her towards him.  He kissed her gently on the lips. "I love you, little bird. Ned Stark himself couldn't have handled today any better". 

"I love you too, Sandor. I only did what I could, I wouldn't have them loose on you and Lycas. I couldn't bear it". 

"Why were you goading him? What made you suspicious that he wanted you dead?" Sandor had to ask. 

She gave a thin smile. "My time in Kings Landing and with Littlefinger taught me that trust must be earned. I've never truly trusted him, I've had a dagger strapped to my boot since the day I married him. Littlefinger himself taught me that even spouses are willing to grasp what the other has by whatever means necessary. I knew this day would come, just not so quickly". She jerked away from him as the door of her chamber was rapped from the outside. 

"Those will be your guards, send for me if you need me. " Sandor rose and left a kiss on her cheek. As he turned to look at her as he left the room, her hand was touching the cheek he had kissed. 

....................

Sandor walked quickly to the kitchen. He grabbed what food he could find and devoured it on the walk back to his chamber. He had a brief strip wash before tumbling into bed and succumbing to sleep.


	16. The Lords

Sandor wasn't sure how long he had been asleep for when he sensed movement in his bed. His chamber was in darkness, he had refused candles and wouldn't allow a fire to burn untended.

"What the fu..." 

"Sssssh. It's me". Sansa's sweet voice whispered through the darkness into his ear. He could feel her warm body pressing against his naked chest. 

"How the fuck did you sneak past your guards? How did you get in here?" Sandor was incredulous. "We have an emergency situation here and the guards won't even do their duty to their Lady properly? Fucking Others take them before I..." Her finger pressed to his lips. 

"I only wanted to come and see you, Sandor. No guard could stop me." 

"Then why are you naked?" Sandor smirked into the direction of her face.

"That was my choice. I can clothe if you wish". Sansa's tone changed and he felt her body move away slightly.

"I don't fucking wish...at all". Sandor growled and pulled her back towards him. His hand explored her body in the pitch black. He disappeared under the covers, leaving her top half naked, save for his hands on her breasts. He flicked his tongue out and felt the slick folds of her mound, his tongue disappearing into it. Sansa's moans intensified as he found her sweet nub. The rhythm he settled into intensified her pleasure, her leg started twitching. 

"Don't stop Sandor!" She moaned. Her hand had come to rest on the back of his head, her slim fingers tangled in his long hair, as if she was scared he would move and abandon his attention. He increased his efforts and increased the rhythm of his licks and sucks. Her back arched as she reached her peak, riding out the aftershocks with his tongue still in her folds. 

Sandor's manhood twitch painfully between his legs. Sansa pushed him over and immediately climbed astride him, taking his cock deep into her. She pulled him up to a sitting position and wrapped her long legs behind him, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tight to him.

With her face right near his, he could only just see that she hadn't taken her eyes off his as she ground her hips mercilessly against his. The eye contact only served to fuel his desire.

She rode him hard for a good few minutes, although there was a sense of urgency to Sansa's movements, there was also a tenderness that he had never had with anyone else. Her hand stroked his scalp. Sandor felt ready to explode, the jiggle of her teats against his chest was driving him crazy, especially as he couldn't reach them from this angle without letting her go.

"Shit, little bird!" He saw her nod slowly as she continued her attentions. Sandor started to see stars and lifted her off his cock gently, his seed spurted out shortly after. 

"Fuck!" They were both sweaty and breathless. "You were amazing, little bird!"

"As were you". Sansa turned his face to hers and kissed him deeply. "But we must get ready. The Northern Lords are arriving soon".

..................

Sansa briefed him as they made for her chamber. "There will be a hearing, we must tell our turn of events. We will break our fast first and then wait for the Lords to arrive. I don't know how or why they knew to come here but they are near. A rider arrived not long ago to inform us of their arrival. it is fortuitous".

Sandor waited until they were in the safety of her chamber before continuing the conversation. "Aye. Am I right in thinking we need their support?"

Sansa looked at him earnestly. "Always. They accept me because I am a Stark but they weren't happy about Queen Daenerys taking the throne and ruling the North but she has proven fair and just. Northern houses must band together, the survival of the North depends on it. Daenerys wiped out House Bolton with her Unsullied warriors, she did me a good turn by sticking swords in their bellies but it made the other Lords leery of her. Remember Sandor, Northmen have long memories. Please hold your temper and follow my lead."

Sandor stared at the plate of food before him and for once, he took no joy in eating it. "What could happen?" 

Sansa dabbed her mouth delicately with a handkerchief. "That remains to be seen. If Harry were a stable boy or a farmer, I could punish him as I see fit. His rank and the fact he is my husband makes things more difficult."

They ate in comparable silence, the pause stretched on, neither wanting to break it.

..................

Two servants disturbed their time together: one announced that Lycas was still unconscious, despite the Maester's best efforts over the course of the night to bring him around. The other announced the presence of the Northern Lords. 

Sansa allowed Sandor to walk behind her to the Great Hall with no comment. As they neared, she stopped and spoke to him. "Whatever happens here, Sandor. You are everything to me. We'll get through this". She kissed his hand and strode purposefully towards the doors, Sandor rushed forward to open them for her.

Sandor recognised Lords representing Umber, Karstark, Manderly and Cerwyn. A lady in a bearskin could only be a Mormont. A few more sat around but Sandor had no idea who they were or which House they represented. The Lords were sat around a long table as they entered the Hall. They stood to their feet as she moved to the head of the table. Sandor took his place at her shoulder, his sword strapped to his back. "My Lords, welcome once again to Winterfell. Please be seated. I am sorry that this convention of our Houses hasn't occurred under happier circumstances. The events recently have been grave, men have died. Many more would have died had a plot not been uncovered. I bring you my own testimony about the recent events."

Lord Umber spoke up. "Wardeness. We are not privy to the details of the goings on here. We received two ravens requesting our urgent presence here. Are you saying they weren't from you?"

She shook her head. "No, my Lord Umber. A plot to kill me was uncovered only yesterday, I would have sent a raven out to you today, had you not sent your man ahead to tell us of your impending arrival."

Sansa paused and looked at each Lord in turn.

"My husband plotted against me, my Lords. Harry Hardyng wants me dead".

........................

Lord Karstark bellowed in outrage. "What? Why."

Sansa shook her head gracefully. "I believe he had become unsatisfied with being a mere consort and wanted the power of the Vale and North for himself. He resented my rank, duties and decision making. He had my loyal servant tortured and even now, the Maester is unsure if he will recover from the injuries they inflicted upon him. This was a loyal Winterfell man, my Lords. Lord Karstark, you took him into your very home as a favour to my Lord father. Lycas told me how well you treated him and he remembers his time with you with great fondness. Harry Hardyng has brutalised gentle Lycas, we recovered him almost dead from a cabin in the woods, not far from here. He had been tortured in the worst ways and he was left exposed to the elements. Sandor and I were on a ride and stumbled across him quite by accident. We were about to bring him back here when Harry beat me while his men watched". She pointed at her black cheeks. Sandor managed to overpower the men while I took care of Harry. I stabbed him in his thigh as he attempted to kick me while I lay beaten on the floor." She paused. "Harry is here, in the cells along with his remaining men".

Lord Karstark's face blanched at the information. "And what of you, Lannister Hound? You would stand by and watch Lady Sansa beaten by her husband? Is the Dog all bark and no bite these days?" 

Sandor snarled. "Harry is aware of his failings by the Lady Sansa, mark my words. I would have killed him for laying his hands on his wife. Lady Sansa told me to leave him alive to face justice, although when I was through with him, he wished he was dead". Sandor growled the words out.

One or two of the Lords sniggered. "You would do as a Northern woman commands you?" Lady Mormont enquired.

"I would do as Lady Sansa commands me, make no mistake about it. I keep her safe now, as I did from the Lannisters in Kings Landing. I didn't see a one of you rushing to do the same. Where were you when the Lannisters were torturing and humiliating her? Hiding in your furs and deep snows. Joffrey fucking Baratheon could have killed her and you lot were all up here, braiding your beards no doubt." Sandor looked to the rest of the seated faces.

A cry broke out, amongst shouting about war and heavy Northern losses. Angry voices shouted over each other, so much so that Sandor couldn't discern any of the words being said. He was surprised that such a noise could be generated from a relatively small group of people.

"My Lords!" Sansa shouted in the din. No-one heard.

"Shut the fuck up!" Sandor bellowed angrily, his words echoing along the length of the Great Hall.

"Arguing about the past is a waste of all of our time. Sandor saved my life in Kings Landing, just as he has here. I owe him a huge debt that can never be repaid." Sansa paused. "Now to the matter at hand. I demand justice for my husband's plot to kill me and for the torture of a man in my service, as is my right".

Lord Cerwyn broke the silence. "What do you suggest?" 

"I am aware of how the Brothers on the Wall are always in dire need of men. I wouldn't trust Harry to guard our realm as the rest of them do. No, my Lords. Harry Hardyng plotted to kill me. Harry Hardyng must pay with his life, if it please you". Sansa's soft tone, free of anger, belied the words she spoke. 

"This!...My Lady. This is quite unprecedented." Lord Manderly.

"No-one has ever been as brazen in their attempt on my life before." Sansa's mouth curled into a wry smile. "Look around us, my Lord! The whole situation is wrong. The turn of events since my father was murdered by the Lannisters has led us all into near ruin. I'm sure you can remember the last time you sat here with my father, he stood where I am now. How many of these seats were empty?" She gestured at the table, which was more than three quarters empty. "None. The Lords and bannermen collected here and we had to have chairs brought in from other rooms, even my Lady mother's own dressing table chair wasn't spared for the occasion. We saw Lords and their sons, Lords and their grandsons. Our losses have been heavy, whole houses have wiped out completely, either by the Lannisters or their agents. The Stark family has been reduced to just me. Harry Hardyng has proved himself to be unworthy of our trust and mercy. I believe he will continue to plot against me and as a result, the North will fail. I don't believe we can sustain any more uncertainty. We have all lost kin to the last war, none of us here will survive another. No. My husband has threatened my life and will continue to, he is a threat to all of us." Sandor noted the sadness that coloured her words.

The room had become deathly silent.


	17. Gods Be Good

The silence was broken by Lord Cerwyn. "If we execute Hardyng, the Vale could rise against us!" 

Sansa nodded. "I agree. I will request the presence of Queen Daenerys and if she consents, we will have a full trial. I will not be shackled to a man who plots my demise but neither will I risk an uprising against us. I will send a raven immediately". 

Sandor stared far off into the distance through the one large window in the great hall. He squinted at something in the distance, something big was closing in on the skies around Winterfell. His mouth dropped open. "Lady Sansa, I'd say the Queen is already here". She followed the line of his pointed finger to the massive black dragon coming into view.

The Northern Lords rose from their seats, craning their necks to get a better view. Their mouths dropped open and their seats banged backwards on the floor, forgotten.

.............

They all clamoured to the courtyard as the Dragon Queen circled the sky above their heads. Sansa ordered the guards to clear the people from the large yard.

Sandor stood rooted to the spot behind her. "Will she have enough room to land here?"

Sansa shook her head. "I have no idea. I'm not going to argue with that Dragon though, look at the size of it! If she thinks it will land here, then land here it shall."

Sandor eyed the Dragon mistrustfully, it breathed fire. He didn't like fire.

The great black beast slowed the flapping of its huge wings as it eased gently downwards, coming to rest on the ground, the spiky tail coiled around the two scaled legs as it came to rest. Sandor was incredulous that such a big creature could maneouver so well, although many had said that about him before too.

He was awestruck by the mythical beast before him. Each black scale shimmered, with a green iridescence which was almost liquid, Sandor likened it to when oil is spilt on water at the forge. The long, pointed face had a beauty all of its own. A large red tongue unfurled from the mouth, he edged away slightly, his hand tightening on the pommel of his sword.

The dragon flattened one side down on the floor and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms climbed down, followed by a small man. Sansa rushed forward, Sandor followed somewhat reluctantly behind. "Your Grace, welcome to Winterfell". Sansa curtseyed low to the woman before her, Sandor managed to get a good look at the Dragon Queen that everyone talked about. The first thing that struck him was her youth. Her long blonde hair was so fair, it was almost white and reached her waist. Her eyes were liquid violet. She had a simple, thin gown on, something Cersei would have dismissed as plain, boring and peasant like. "Your Grace, may I get you some furs?" Sansa must have been eyeing the Queen's bare shoulders too but the diminutive woman didn't seem to notice the cold.

"Lady Sansa, I thank you for your concern but fire flows through my veins, I don't feel the cold". The Queen's hand stroked the dragon, who appeared to enjoy the attention as any dog would. 

A figure appeared to the side of the Queen. "Gods be good, I forget how cold and deathlike the North is!" 

"Lord Tyrion!" Sansa curtseyed again at the man before her.

"Lady Sansa. You really haven't travelled until you have travelled by dragon!" He swayed slightly where he stood.

"Are you unwell? Can I get you anything, my Lord?" 

"Wine. Please. Any wine so long as it is wet will suffice. I needs calm my nerves. Meeting a former wife is a daunting prospect for a any man!" Tyrion looked like he might vomit at any moment.

"I thought that your dragon would only allow one rider, Your Grace? " Sansa enquired.

Queen Daenerys laughed. "I believed it also to be the case, Lady Sansa. Drogon seems to tolerate Tyrion, the need was great to get here quick and I think Drogon sensed my anxiety. This is Tyrion's first dragon ride and he screamed most of the way".

"Your Grace! It was a manly war cry! Let it never be said that Tyrion Lannister screamed like a small girl. Even my imp pride would not withstand a slight so large! And once we return to Kings Landing, I shall walk next time, if that's fine with you. No offence Drogon!" Tyrion addressed the dragon. "I'll leave the dragonriding to the Targaryens".

"May I get anything for your dragon? A stable and a small meal of meat seems somewhat trifling for a beast as magnificent as this!" Sansa eyed the dragon.

"I thank you for your concern but he will hunt now and return before I need to depart." Queen Daenerys turned to her dragon. "Drogon". The beast turned his head towards her. "Arghugon".

Daenerys and Tyrion stepped back and watched Drogon as he stretched his wings and flew off into the sky, with a loud roar not heard in the North for hundreds of years.

"What did you tell him to do?" Sansa looked awestruck at the retreating figure. Sandor's fear was still too strong to be disappointed that the mythical beast had left.

"I told him to hunt. A Dragon can travel a league in no time at all. Your livestock is quite safe, Lady Sansa". Daenerys smiled reassuringly at her.

....................

Daenerys was keen to head straight for the Great Hall and refused all offer of rest and refreshment.

"We must start right from the beginning, Lady Sansa. Remind us all of how you came to be married to Harry Hardyng". Daenerys perched on the edge of Ned Stark's chair. The Northern Lords, Daenerys, Tyrion, Sansa and Sandor had reconvened in the Great Hall. 

"After Joffrey took my father's head, he used to have me shamed and beaten in front of everyone. His Kingsguard would strip me and Joffrey would take great pleasure from seeing me humiliated. Every time Robb won a battle, I would be humiliated soundly." Sansa began.

"Does this include you, Ser Clegane? Tyrion tells me you were on the Kingsguard at that time." Queen Daenerys hadn't looked at him once since her arrival. Now her violet eyes lasered a hole through his. 

"Never! I'm no buggering Ser!" Sandor exclaimed. He looked to Sansa, who looked horrified. "Your Grace." He added hastily, eager not to shame Sansa in front of the Queen. "That's to say, I never laid a finger on her and I prevented the beatings I could from the others."

"It's true, Your Grace. Clegane was the best friend she had at that time". Tyrion interjected, raising his goblet to his lips.

"Sandor saved me from the Bread Riots, Joffrey commanded him to leave me to be raped and murdered along with the other women separated from everyone else. One girl came back pregnant from the rape, others didn't come back at all. I came very close to being gang raped by four men but Sandor located me in time and killed them before they could go through with it". Sansa looked down at her lap.

Sandor could see tears glisten in Daenerys's eyes and her poise faltered. "I am so sorry, Lady Sansa". She said gently.

"I was unharmed, other than bruises and scrapes but such was Joffrey's attitude to me. Our betrothal was cast aside shortly after, in favour of Margaery Tyrell. That was a blessing. I was married to Tyrion not long after, to keep my claim to the North within the Lannister grasp." Sansa spoke quietly but despite the number of bodies in the room, there was total silence. The Northern Lords were all rapt, their attention unwavering from Sansa.

"Joffrey died at his wedding, a plot between Oleanna Tyrell and Petyr Baelish. Baelish used the chaos to sneak me out of the wedding and on to a boat, where we sailed for The Eyrie. I understand you were blamed for that, my lord". She looked at Tyrion. "I wasn't aware of any plot and I certainly wasn't complicit. You didn't deserve that."

Tyrion nodded and smiled.

"Baelish had me dye my hair and passed me off as his own bastard while we lived under my Aunt's roof. He was lecherous and inappropriate, he said I reminded him of my mother and that he used to love my mother...". Sansa shuddered in repulsion. "He murdered my Aunt Lysa and Cousin Robin to allow Harry a claim on the Vale. I was examined and proclaimed a maiden still, our marriage annulled on the grounds of being unconsummated". She directed her words at Tyrion. "Then I was allowed to emerge as Sansa Stark again before being married off to Harry. Baelish rebuilt Winterfell because the Boltons left it a ruin and once I was secure as Wardeness, he reminded me of how I owed him for my position. He wanted to control Harry as Lord of the Vale and me as Wardeness of the North."

Sansa paused for a few moments to take a delicate gulp of her wine. Many faces were grim as they listened to her story. 

"Baelish negotiated in our marriage contract that I would be Wardeness and Harry would be my Consort. I think he knew that Harry would one day attempt to overthrow me." A wan smile twisted her lips. "Which he did, not right away. He would take the small day to day decisions away from me. Eventually, he was doing everything I should be doing and I was too weak to stop him. I thought he cared about me, he said he wanted to share the load so that I didn't overexert myself. Before long, I was useless. A wife in name and a decoration for his arm but the power was out of my hands."

She looked around at the faces surrounding her. "You must all think I am an awful coward. My Lords, each and every one of you would have put a sword in his gut before you let him rule you. Your Grace, you have conquered cities and freed slaves from their shackles, I lost control of my own household! Sandor has fought bravely in numerous battles bravely and without fear, guarded royal families. Lord Tyrion, you have fought bravely and counselled Kings and Queens. I have only failed at the position of trust you have placed me in." Tears ran forth from her eyes. Sandor offered her a white handkerchief, which she accepted and blotted her eyes gently. 

Quen Daenerys leaned forward from her place on her seat, she placed her small hand on Sansa's. "You have been brave, Lady Sansa. Will you continue your story about Harry's betrayal or would you like a few moments alone to compose yourself?"

Sansa smiled gratefully at her queen. "No, Your Grace, I will continue". Sandor could see from the strained look on her face that raking up the past was taking its toll on her, he hoped it would be over soon.

"Sandor came back here a while ago now and with his reassuring presence, I found the strength to reassert myself. A hunting party found him not far from here, he had travelled from the Quiet Isles to find me. Harry was intimidated by him and sentenced him to death for the events of the Saltpans. I sent you all a raven with a verified account from the Brother who healed Sandor's wounds that he was not responsible. Harry would not believe it, so I had to pull rank. I shamed him, Your Grace, into knowing his place. I know it was the root of the strife between us but he would have executed an innocent man in cold blood, he wasn't interested in the facts." Sansa paused for another sip of her wine. 

"There has been too much unnecessary death in my lifetime, I couldn't let it happen. Our situation deteriorated from there. I asserted my status and he resented me for it. He found solace in his cups with his Vale men, they rode out often to the nearest towns. Lycas is my loyal manservant and he disappeared not too long ago and we found him yesterday, tortured and almost beaten to death. Harry turned up to kill Lycas while we were tending his wounds and figuring out how to get him back here. Harry beat me and made it clear to his men that they would kill Lycas and me, dumping my body somewhere on the way back here." 

....................

There was complete stunned silence as the group digested the information they had just heard. 

"Lycas?" Tyrion questioned. "The message the raven bore from you was signed by a Lycas, How could he know you would need our assistance so far in advance?"

Sansa shook her head. "I do not know my Lord. He remains unconscious and our Maester is unsure if he will recover from the injuries Harry inflicted on him".

Sandor spoke up. "I know. Lycas had overheard Harry and his men plotting to kill Lady Sansa and he knew they would move quickly once it was all agreed. He came to me, unsure of what to do. We had no proof, we could only wait for him to strike."

"Why did you not inform the Lady Sansa of the threat against her person?" Queen Daenerys questioned coolly.

"What good would it have done? She was unsettled by Harry's behaviour anyway. Her safety is my concern and I made sure I didn't leave her alone for a second more than necessary." Sandor shrugged. "Lycas send ravens to Kings Landing, as well as to the Northern Lords, hoping for as much help as we could gather in a short amount of time."

Queen Daenerys seemed to think for a long while before talking. "We need Lycas to stir from his coma...The information he holds will be key. We shall have a break and reconvene in an hour, we must talk to Harry".


	18. Upon My Honour

Harry's confinement had done nothing to dull his attempt at charm. He limped into the Great Hall, a Northman at each elbow.

"Your Grace, this is such a pleasure. Welcome to our home". He swept Daenerys as low a bow as his injured leg would allow, his actions at odds with the ragged and bloodstained clothes he sported.

Daenerys' face betrayed nothing. "Be seated, my Lord." She gestured at a chair that had been placed before the table. 

.........

"Lord Harry. The accusations levied against you are grave. I would have you version of events before deciding anything." Daenerys requested.

"Your Grace. I am most perplexed by the turn of events here." Harry feigned shock, Sandor felt a wave of anger roll through him. He had to hand it to Harry, he was convincing. Sandor hoped Daenerys could sniff the lie out as well as he could. "Lady Sansa and I settled into a happy marriage, arranged by others but happy nonetheless. We moved to Winterfell almost right away. I could see the stress of being in charge weighing heavily on her. Women were not made to rule". The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. Sandor observed Daenerys bristle in response. "That is, they weren't made to rule without help and good counsel, as any King would also need". Harry added hastily. "I started to take a more active role, to ease her burden. Eventually, she was glad of my help and I ended up doing most of her work for her". Harry glanced down at his feet, in faux modesty. 

Sandor could feel rage rolling off Sansa but her face was stony.

"But you knew the duties of the Wardeness were not yours to take?" Tyrion questioned. 

"Of course, my Lord. I am but a mere Consort. However, I felt that we would be letting the North down if Lady Sansa's duties were not undertaken, so I assumed as many as I needed to in order to keep everything running". Harry added.

"Of course, how selfless you were My Lord! And now the North still stands, all thanks to you". Tyrion's exclaimed. 

"I thank you my Lord for recognising that in me. I truly tried to help". Harry's pride failed to detect the obvious sarcasm in Tyrion's statement. Harry's face beamed at the perceived praise. 

"What do you know of the torture of Lycas?" Daenerys enquired.

"I fear to tell the truth, Your Grace". Harry glanced back at his feet.

"You will speak candidly here Lord Harry, there is nothing to fear". Daenerys reassured. 

"The Terror of the Saltpans sits with us in this very room, Your Grace. My Lady wife would not hear of his execution for his crimes. Since his arrival, he has not left her side. Lycas was a close friend and confidant of hers, I can only imagine it angered the Hound and he tortured him in response. It wouldn't have taken much for him to sneak out one night and torture that poor lad unto death. No person should ever have to bear having their fingernails removed! Pure sadistic barbarism but it isn't surprising, given the nature of the House he served for so long. You know better than most, Your Grace, exactly what atrocities House Clegane is capable of". Harry shook his head. 

The room sat quiet for a moment. Sandor seethed with rage at the comparison to Gregor, it bubbled in his chest and began to burn. He looked at the Queen and could see a similar struggle raging internally.

"I notice, my Lord, that you have not looked directly at your Lady wife since your arrival in this room. Why is that? Is it shame that you raised your hand to your wife in anger? Look at the marks on her face!" Tyrion's voice seethed with anger. The Northern Lords murmured amongst themselves in agreement. 

"I regret that, my Lords. My men and I set out to follow my wife and the Hound, for her own protection. He took her to the cabin in the woods, near here, no doubt to scare her into submission. My Lady wife came out to speak to me, she wouldn't listen to my desperate pleas to return home under my protection, away from that brute. She became quite mad, ranting and raving at me. I slapped her twice to bring her to her senses. I am ashamed that I raised my hand to her but it was for her own good, her best interests were my main concern".

"Do you deny plotting to kill Lady Sansa?" Daenerys enquired evenly.

"Of course, Your Grace. I love my wife dearly and would not see her harmed or shamed in any way".

"You're a fucking liar!" Sandor could remain quiet no longer. 

"How dare you, Dog!" Harry shot out of his seat, feeling secure enough to display outrage. 

Sandor stood up. "Your Grace, may I ask a couple of questions?" He addressed Daenerys. She nodded.

"Are you being entirely honest? Remember, you are in the presence of a Queen. The Lords will be witness if you don't tell it true". Sandor demanded. 

"Upon my honour, every word from my mouth is the Gods honest truth". Harry replied solemnly.

"Then your honour isn't worth shit". Sandor snapped. "Did you participate in the torture of Lycas, or have your men torture him in your stead?" 

"No!" Harry exclaimed. 

"Did you or your men enter the cabin or have any contact with Lycas's body prior to meeting Lady Sansa outside of it?" Sandor demanded.

"We did not!" Harry's charm was wearing thin.

"Did you go straight from the cabin to the cells here at Winterfell?" 

"You know we did!" Harry looked at Daenerys. "Your Grace, I don't see..."

"Sandor will continue!" Daenerys cut him off short, she was leaning towards the action, obviously interested in where the questioning was leading.

"Harry. You're telling me you didn't order or participate in the torture of Lycas and your men had nothing to do with it either. You saw Lady Sansa outside of the cabin but never went in. I killed your guards and the rest of them at Winterfell were put in the cells with you and you have spoken to no-one since."

"Yes!" Harry shouted. 

"Then how could you possibly know that Lycas had some of his fingernails removed?" Sandor smirked as Harry's face paled. 

"Your Grace, Lady Sansa ensured that details of Lycas's injuries were kept between the Maester, his assistants and us that found him, out of respect and decency. Even Lady Sansa and I didn't realise it had been done to him, Lycas's hands were covered in blood from defensive wounds. The Maester only found he had missing fingernails once he had cleaned him. Lady Sansa didn't even tell the Lords here how bad the damage to Lycas is. The only way Harry could know that is if he was there or ordered his torture". Sandor smiled triumphantly. "Not as fucking clever as you think you are, are you My Lord? Even a Dog like me can shatter your lies". He snarled at Harry's scared face. 

Queen Daenerys was grim. "You would swear upon your honour and then brazenly lie to your Queen?"

"No! It was a mere guess!" Harry's desperation covered him like a cloak. it reeked.

"It didn't sound like a guess." Anger coloured Daenerys's fair complexion, the Dragon had awoken.

The room them erupted into chaos. Lords Umber and Cerwyn restrained an angry Lord Karstark, who Sandor guessed was about to kill Harry with his own hands, the latter cowered on his chair at the bellowed threats directed at him. Sansa's shoulders had slumped at Harry's deceit being revealed. 

A door to the Great Hall opened and a servant ran to Sansa's side and whispered in her ear. 

"Sandor. Lycas is awake!" She beamed up at him. 

"QUIET!!!!!!!" Sandor's deep voiced boomed around the Hall, echoing. The Northern Lords paused their shouting.

"Your Grace, Lycas is awake. We may be able to talk to him". Sansa addressed Daenerys. 

"Very well. Have your guards return Harry to the cells. We shall speak to Lycas".

....................... 

The room was big enough only for Sandor, Daenerys, Sansa and Tyrion. The Maester sat in the corner, keeping a watchful eye on proceedings. "Your Grace, Lady Sansa. Lycas is on heavy pain medication. He will know what he is saying but you can't press him too hard, he isn't well enough to withstand it. By rights, he should be allowed to rest completely but I am told the situation is critical".

Daenerys nodded in recognition of the Maester's warning and leaned over bed. She started at his injuries. "Lycas?" 

His only good eye opened, the other was still black and swollen shut. "Pretty Dragon Queen!"

She smiled. "Who did this to you?" 

"Harry. Wants Sansa dead. Bastard." Lycas spoke with obvious effort, his chest heaved in and out alarmingly as he exerted himself to talk.

"How did you stop Harry killing her?"

"Sandor". His eye closed.

"One last question, Lycas. How did you find out his intentions?"

"Followed him. Heard him in brothel". His eye remained closed. 

Daenerys reached out and patted his shoulder. "Thank you. You have served Lady Sansa well".

Sandor had a feeling that Lycas wouldn't remember this visit.

.......................

They returned to the Great Hall and told the Northern Lords what Lycas had said. 

Sandor spoke up again. "Lycas came to me and told me he had heard of a plot to kill Lady Sansa. Lycas followed him to a brothel a good distance from here and managed to overhear Harry plotting with his man. He said that the first plan was to sneak someone into her bedchamber and smother her. Then another was to drown her while she was bathing."

"How did you foil these plans?" Queen Daenerys sat straight, her hands folded on her lap.

"I guarded her every minute, Your Grace". Sandor was unabashed but colour had crept on to Sansa's cheeks, it did not pass by unnoticed. 

"Very well. We shall all think about what we have heard here today and reconvene in an hour's time. Think carefully, my Lords. A man's fate rests on the balance of what you have heard here."

The Northern Lords took their leave, to refresh themselves.

Sansa rose to leave. "Lady Sansa and Sandor, I will have a minute of your time." Queen Daenerys requested evenly.

........................

"Is there anything further I should know about, without the presence of the Lords?" She enquired.

Sansa replied. "What would you wish to know, Your Grace?"

"Exactly how long you two have been intimate?" Daenerys asked in a neutral voice. 

Tyrion burst out in a hoot of laughter. "Sansa and Clegane? Ha, Your Grace. People are saying I am funnier than a Fool but you may surpass me yet!" He banged the table with his small hand and made his empty goblet jump off the table. Sandor fixed him with a glare. 

Sansa shot Sandor a look before bowing her head. "It is true, Your Grace. I have shamed Sandor, my House, my name, my rank and the trust you have placed in me." Sansa's distress gnawed at his heart. "I pursued Sandor relentlessly shortly after his return to Winterfell. I accept any punishment you deem fit but please, don't punish him!"

"No! That's not how it was! I pursued her and wouldn't take no for an answer!" Sandor shouted.

Queen Daenerys looked shocked and her expression darkened. "You mean to tell me that you forced Lady Sansa into intimacy?"

"Yes!" Sandor exclaimed.

"NO!" Sansa screeched over the top of him, her hand clawing her chest.

Tyrion was rendered mute by the exchange, he was slack jawed. His infamous wit had completely abandoned him. 

"Why my dear Sansa, Tyrion is quite lost for words! We should alert the Citadel, this is quite unprecedented." Queen Daenerys' mouth twitched. Sandor wondered what was going on in the Dragon Queen's mind. She didn't seem angry about the revelation. She hadn't ordered his head off....yet. 

"Today has been a long and stressful day so I will have it true from both of you. Did you consent to sexual relations with Sandor Clegane? Taking a woman against her will is a grave crime and not one I will allow to pass unanswered" She addressed Sansa. 

"Yes. I love him and if I lose him, I will surely die. Sandor Clegane has made me the happiest I've ever been in my miserable life and anything he says to the contrary is just his attempt to spare me any punishment". Sansa spoke passionately. "I do deserve punishment though. Despite Harry's sins against me, I have betrayed my marriage vows and cuckolded my husband. I am not better than him". She cried into her hand. "Sandor has no wife, the shame and sin is mine alone, Your Grace".

Queen Daenerys thought carefully. "Is Sandor Clegane the first man you have had relations with, outside of your marriage?" 

Sansa nodded profusely. "Yes, Your Grace. He is only the second man I have ever been intimate with."

"Does this change things? If this became common knowledge, the Vale could say that Lady Sansa plotted to frame her husband in order to make way for another". Tyrion looked at Daenerys earnestly, his small thumb jerked in Sandor's direction.

"Oh Tyrion, ever the cynical voice. You are quite right though, this would be very bad news." Daenerys stared off into the distance. "Lady Sansa, I asked Tyrion what kind of woman you were, before we left Kings Landing. He said you were gentle, kind and honest. The perfect Lady, even under the pressure of being a hostage in a hostile court." Sansa's head dropped at her former husband's assessment of her character. "I believe him. Time and circumstances change us all but your innate nature remains".

"Thank you , Your Grace." Sansa smiled thinly.

"It ends now because it has to, that is my direct order to both of you. The risk is too great. Whatever you were to each other, you have to remain as a Wardeness and her guard." Daenerys was firm in her reproach.

Sansa gasped and started to shake her head but Sandor placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not going to punish you, Sansa and Sandor. I won't lecture you on morals or dignity, that is between you two and the Gods. But it is a matter of basic survival. Did you take precautions, to ensure you aren't with child?" She addressed Sansa. 

"Yes Your Grace. We did. The Maester here says I will never carry a child, Harry tried hard to get me with child but nothing ever took". Sansa's voice wavered. Even in Kings Landing as a mere girl, Sandor knew she had always dreamed of being a mother.

"And for that you have my sympathies, Lady Sansa". Daenerys placed a hand over Sansa's and her face softened. "I will need both of you to swear to me that this will be no more". 

"Your Grace. I can't...I won't..." Sansa cried out in answer to her question.

"Your Grace". Sandor cut across Sansa and addressed Daenerys directly with words more measured than any he had spoken before. "I know we have transgressed but please, please withhold your judgement until I can present to you the last of what Lycas found". 

"That's as close to begging as he gets, Your Grace." Tyrion quipped.

"Very well. Present the last of the puzzle. I am aware that neither of you made that vow to me...I will need your assurances before I leave". 

"I understand, Your Grace". Sandor had never spoken so respectfully in his life but he knew the stakes were high.


	19. A Cursed House

The Lords filed back in to the Great Hall, followed by the guards with Harry.

"I am told we have one last thing that needs to be addressed. Lady Sansa". Daenerys beckoned to Sansa to speak.

She cleared her throat delicately. "It is well known to me that Harry has availed himself of whores throughout the duration of our marriage. It is a fact he used to try and shame me with his whoring, he was quite honest about it. When it started, I know not exactly but he has not hidden the fact from me. I present to you the household ledgers, showing the coin he has spent on whores since we have lived here." She slid a ledger over to Daenerys and Tyrion. "The green bound ledger is the income and expenditure of Winterfell. I maintained a separate source of funds for these because I was not confident of Harry's ability to manage coin". She paused as Tyrion looked over the information on the page. 

"This look very prudent and well kept, Your Grace". He nodded as he showed her the last page.

"The blue bound ledger is Harry's own personal coin, which I set aside for him and let him assume that it was our total household income. He wasn't used to the way things were run here, so he didn't question it. He showed interest in our financial matters but other than wanting to know the contents of the treasury, he didn't try to manage it properly. That is a blessing at least". She slid the last ledger towards Tyrion.

Tyrion squinted hard before bringing the book closer to his eyes. He whistled low. "Render me stunned! That is an extraordinary amount of coin on whores, even by the standards I set in my heyday". He flipped back a few pages with his thumb. "There are times that he drained the fund dry almost completely." Tyrion showed the page to Daenerys, whose eyes widened in shock. The ledgers were passed down the chain of Lords.

"And what bearing should my fiscal needs have on my case?" Harry was outraged that it was being called into question. 

"I will show you, my Lord!" Sandor snarled the last part of the sentence before standing up and beckoning to the guards to open the doors. 

A steady stream of women and children piled in and came to stand in a line before the Queen. 

Sandor snuck a look at Harry's face, his jaw had dropped to the floor. 

"You all know why you have been called here. Speak freely and state you name and relation to Harry Hardyng". Sandor spoke as gently as he could. 

The first in the line spoke up, she was a pretty girl with a plump body. 

"My name is Cissy, Your Grace." Cissy dipped a curtsey to Daenerys. "Harry is the father of my daughter, Alys". Cissy pushed Alys forward, a beautiful child in around her third or fourth year of life. 

"Cissy, Alys. Welcome. Did Harry father Alys while he was married to Lady Sansa?" Daenerys enquired gently. 

"Harry pursued me just after the engagement was announced and shortly before the wedding. Lady Waynwood arranged for me to marry one of her men at arms to save the scandal. I apologise Wardeness, I knew it was wrong but he made it hard to resist him". Shame flooded Cissy's face and she reddened under the scrutiny of the people in the room, she didn't raise her eyes to Sansa. 

"Next, please". Sandor was keen to move things along.

"My name is Saffron, Your Grace and Harry is the father of my daughter too. I am from Gulltown". Saffron pushed a girl forward gently, whose age was similar to the previous child. "My daughter was conceived after Harry married Lady Sansa. I apologise too,My Lady".

Daenerys acknowledged and thanked each woman in turn, each woman told a similar story. Harry travelled and bedded women. Some were women from respectable families, others were whores. Farther down the line, the women clutched newborn babes and others were in varying stages of being with child.

"Lies! All lies! These are all grasping whores, Your Grace, seeking gold coins from me, no doubt." Harry protested his innocence for all to hear. 

"My Father is a wealthy merchant, I don't need your coin! If you'd left my smallclothes alone for five minutes and actually talked to me, you'd know that!" Saffron bellowed at Harry's stunned face. Sandor grinned at the girl's spirit.

Daenerys rose from her seat and walked among Harry's children, scrutinising each small face carefully. "Harry. Most of these children have a strong look of you, do you not think? They range in age from during your engagement, right up to recently. The last woman looked like she may give birth any minute." Daenerys was cool in her tone, she returned to Ned Stark's chair and sat down again.

"Lycas spoke to their families and brothel owners. All identified described Harry and his men in great detail, even down to the intricate saddles their horses bore. He left a trail of brothel keepers and fathers who are baying for his blood, Your Grace, from the Vale right back here. He threatened them with violence if they dared to approach Lady Sansa about the matter, he promised to bring his bastards to Winterfell and care for them when the time was right". Sandor supplied helpfully.

"I can well imagine. I thank you all for your assistance". Daenerys dismissed the women and children. 

"Lady Sansa, did you have any notion of these bastards?" Daenerys questioned her gently. Sansa's face was wan with shock and shame. 

"No, Your Grace. I knew he used his charm and his money to buy the affection of whores but I had no idea that he had fathered so many bastards. How many were there? 10?"

"12 that Lycas could find, confirm and persuade to come before you today. Other women told him of taking Moon Tea to empty their wombs. Some attempted it successfully but for some reason, for others it wasn't effective. I know little of the remedies for women but the Maester here confirmed it is only effective if brewed right and drank within a limited time. Lycas believed that there may well be others who were not as open to talking about the experience with him".

"You have spread your seed far, My Lord. I congratulate you on the births of each of your children." Sansa spoke directly to Harry for the first time, her words dripping with contempt.

"And why should I not, wife? You are barren, so putting my seed in you was a waste of both our efforts! At least I know it is not me who is defective, let it never be said that Harrold Hardyng cannot make an heir. Hells, I have heard of noble wives being put aside for not being able to bear heirs, it is one of the few things you should be able to do right. If a common whore from a bawdy house can get with my child then why can't you? I have always wondered what the Starks did to afford such poor luck, do you offend the Gods so? They have cursed your House many times over! At least the House of my heirs I had planned so carefully could rule the North without such constant and total misfortune..." Harry sneered at her paling face.

Sandor saw red, every last defense that Elder Brother had put in place to keep his anger in check crumbled into dust. He was only barely conscious of the uproar from the Northern Lords at the insults cast at Sansa and her noble deceased family. He covered the floor between them in no time at all, the guards had no time to react. He grabbed Harry around the throat and lifted him off the chair, lifting him on a level with Sandor's face. The smaller man's eyes bulged from their sockets and his feet dangled uselessly. "You fucking dare say one more word to her, you bastard son of a whore!" Sandor shook him as easily as a ragdoll from side to side, making Harry's eyes bulge all the more. "I'll snap your neck in two before you insult her like that in my presence! You will crawl to Lady Sansa on your worthless knees, kiss her slippered feet and apologise!" Sandor threw him to the floor roughly. Harry sat still clawing his throat, where bruises had pooled in vivid shades of black and purple. "I SAID CRAWL!" Sandor bent down and bellowed in the smaller man's ear. Harry whimpered in fright before setting off for his wife's seated form. Sandor paid no mind about anyone else in the room. Harry crawled slowly and painfully before coming to rest at her feet, Sandor followed close behind, like a father guarding an errant toddler.

"I apologise for what I said" Harry snivelled.

Harry winced as Sandor placed his foot and most of his weight on the back of Harry's legs. "You will need to convince me that you mean it. That is convincing no-one". 

"I apologise for everything I have said and done against you, my Lady. I beg your forgiveness for a second chance". Harry kissed each of her feet while Sansa squirmed in her seat uncomfortably at the contact.

"You need to tell me what you have done against me, before you can demand my forgiveness. Sandor can smell a lie from a league away" Sansa addressed her husband. 

"I did have Lycas tortured! I didn't mean to almost kill him!" Harry stated carefully, Sandor could hear him selecting his words before they came from his mouth, carefully crafting his lie.

"That's a fucking lie, you little prick". Sandor trod with more force on the backs of his legs.

"OK! I did want him dead, I planned to kill him!" Harry screamed as the pain permeated his bones. 

Sandor nodded at Sansa. 

"For what reason? He did nothing to you to deserve that." Sansa kept her voice even.

"He found out I was planning to kill you! One of my men saw him sneaking away from the brothel, I could take no chances that he'd tell you or Sandor!" Harry shouted loud. 

Sandor paused only to hear a feminine gasp, plus the loud shouts of the Northern Lords before picking Harry up and punching him so hard that he was knocked clean unconscious. 

No-one tried to stop him.


	20. Justice

Daenerys asked for the Great Hall to be filled with as many people as possible, to bear witness to the proceedings. Harry was conscious once more and looking worse for it, seated in a chair with a guard at each shoulder. She stood at the front of the Hall, in front of Ned Stark's chair.

"A grave plot has been uncovered here today. We have a confession of a plot to murder Lady Sansa in cold blood and supplant her position. Then he planned to bring his bastards to Winterfell and continue as Warden of the North. The same person was also responsible for the torture and near murder of Lycas. " Daenerys quietened as the Great Hall erupted into roars of outrage. She signalled for quiet and received it almost immediately. "These are trying times, people of Winterfell. I am aware that in my time on the Iron Throne, I haven't made time to come up and see the people of the North as I should have and for that, you have my apologies. I was summoned here to preside over a trial as reigning sovereign. Lord Harry Hardyng has confessed his guilt for planning to murder Lady Sansa and for torturing her loyal servant, Lycas." She paused, taking in the stunned faces of the crowd.

"Lord Tyrion has informed me of a saying you have in the North - 'The North Remembers'. I want you to hold this day forever in your memory and pass the knowledge of what you have witnessed here today down the generations. You the people will decide Harry's fate for what he planned to do. As Harry has admitted the cowardly crime of torture and has also plotted to kill a Lady to whom I have entrusted the North, I have decided that Lord Harry can either be allowed to the Wall to take the Black or he shall die here today. Every grown man and woman here shall have a vote in the matter. If you cannot shout, signal your choice so that Tyrion can see. Those who would have Harry join the Night's Watch? Vote now." A small murmur passed from the lips of a few Northerners. 

"Even the bloody Watch wouldn't want 'im, yer Grace!" Shouted a man Sandor recognised as working in the forge.

"Yeah, even the Watch have standards!" Bellowed another. 

Daenerys smiled faintly. "Who would see Harry executed for his crimes?"

A gale of noise emanated from the crowd, the Northern Lords joining in on the chorus. Sandor refrained from voting either way.

"My Lords and the people have spoken. Harry Hardyng, You will rise". The guards pulled him to his feet. "I, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. First of Her Name. Queen of the Andals and the First Men. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons - do sentence you, Harry of House Hardyng to death for your crimes."

Harry paled before fainting.

.....................

Winterfell stood virtually empty, save for children left in the care of the Septa, as a procession of adults made their way to the spot where generations of Starks had executed traitors with Ice. Daylight was waning quickly, some of the procession had torches.

Sandor rode to the side of Sansa near the front of the processional. They came to a halt on a grassy hillock. A head stone came into view. The stone itself was stained with the blood of those executed on it, Sandor doubted it had seen any use for a long time. 

Daenerys dismounted her horse and the rest of those on horseback followed suit. She motioned to the guards and they brought forth the condemned man to the side of the headstone. "I am told that this is the traditional Stark way". She addressed Sansa. 

"Yes, Your Grace but we are no longer in possession of my family greatsword." Sansa replied. The shock of the events unfolding had taken a toll on her, Sandor could see from her whitened complexion.

Daenerys nodded. "Clegane. You are the strongest here and you have a fine sword, maybe you could do the honours?" 

Sandor would be only too glad to finish Harry off but before he could, Harry seemed to awake from his stupor. He spat at Daenerys. "You would have me executed by a mere Dog? Fuck you!" Desperation twisted his features. Sandor backhanded Harry hard across the face, glad of the excuse to lay his hands on him.

A servant rushed forward and offered Daenerys a cloth to clean herself with, she dabbed gently at the offending deposit on her cheek. She nodded slowly and turned to Harry. Sandor saw fire dancing in her pale eyes, he could almost see the individual flames burning the violet away. "I had a quick death in mind for you, Harry Hardying, despite your crimes. Now you will die screaming".

There were gasps of shock as in the distance, the great black dragon cut through the darkening gloom and came into view on the horizon. His great black wings flapped almost lazily, propelling him forward very quickly. Sandor had a new appreciation of how quickly they could fly, the horses sensed his presence and became unsettled. Daenerys turned to address the crowd as he landed beside them. "Fear not people of Winterfell, he will not harm you". She walked to his side and petted his face as Sandor would any pup from the kennels. "You will all need to step back". Daenerys nodded to the guards and they moved the crowd of people on to the grassy hillock downwind of the dragon. Sandor guided Sansa by the elbow in the same direction, very glad of the distance between them and the fire breathing mouth. Tyrion stood by the side of Sansa and grasped her hand. 

Harry stood shaking and rooted in fear beside the head stone, his eyes not leaving the dragon before him. The dragon screamed in Harry's face, the force of it's breath almost knocked him off his feet. The crowd was silent. 

"Harry will now atone for his crimes by paying with his life, as was the judgement of the people". Daenerys addressed the crowd a final time. "Drogon." The dragon tuned his head towards his mistress. "Dracarys". The dragon emitted what sounded like a chuckle before bathing Harry in a shower of fire, the light from the fire chased the gloom away and lit up the sky in front of him. Harry's screams of agony were painful to hear, nevermind the awful burning smell that pervaded the hills before Drogon consumed his remains in what looked like one bite. 

Sandor was horrified but transfixed at the events. The sight of fire awakened the memories of Gregor burning his face on a brazier all those many years ago. The smell of charred flesh made him shudder as he remember the smell of his own flesh being seared by the fire. Sandor couldn't look away but he felt a small hand slip into his. He knew Sansa was doing what she could to reassure him, knowing his history with fire. He squeezed her hand, grateful of the contact to pull him back to the present.

The ordeal was over not long after it began. the only proof it happened at all was a slight blackening of the head stone and melting of the light snow where Harry had stood. Drogon's fire had lightly licked the headstone only lightly.

The Dragon Queen stood to the side of her child and stroked him reassuringly. She patted him softly before letting go. He crawled forward a few steps on the points of his wings and took off quickly from the hill, flapping his wings quickly and taking off into the dark.

Not a sound could be heard from the crowd still, Sandor turned around to see many disbelieving faces all stupefied at what they had just witnessed. The ferocity of dragons had always been the stuff of legends, used by parents to scare naughty children to sleep since before Sandor was born. Witnessing the ability of the beast was completely different up close, he could appreciate the raw power contained in the vast body.

Daenerys mounted her horse without comment and started the processional back to the castle, everyone else followed quietly in her wake.

......................

Sansa took to her chambers as they returned to Winterfell and refused to see anyone, even Sandor. Instead, he stood guard outside her room, even though the only real threat to her was now churning around in the great belly of a dragon.

..............

The time rolled by unchecked, Sandor was consumed by his thoughts about the events of the day. It was quite unprecedented. 

He hadn't heard the door open behind his back, he felt a small hand on his shoulder. "Sandor". He turned at the sound of her voice. Her pale skin was blotchy and the skin around her eyes was red rimmed. She looked terrible.

"Little Bird". He whispered. She sobbed and threw herself into her arms. Her tears ran down his neck and pooled in the material of his tunic. He could do nothing to soothe her other than hold her and stroke her hair.

Sandor jerked away from her as he heard footsteps coming down the corridor.

"Lady Sansa. I apologise for the intrusion. Queen Daenerys would like to talk to you". The small man smiled sympathetically at Sansa. 

"She's not up to it at the moment, Lannister. She's in shock". Sandor replied. 

"And for that I apologise but Her Grace really does need to see her". 

"No, Lord Tyrion, it's alright. I will come". Sansa walked shakily. 

...................

Sansa walked into the chamber she had allocated Daenerys. Sandor moved to leave.

"No, Sandor Clegane. You must stay. This involves you too". Daenerys insisted and gestured him to sit.

He grunted in compliance and seated himself at the small table. The top of the table knocked against his knees but none of the other three had that problem.

"Today has been....eventful? I apologise that Harry wasn't given the swift Northern end that maybe he should but it was an end nonetheless". Daenerys was apologetic.

"No sense in wasting good meat. Drogon is a hungry lad". Tyrion quipped before seeing Sansa's horrified face. "Forgive me, my Lady. I was thoughtless. My mouth works faster than my brain ever could, you know that better than most". 

Sansa smiled and nodded. 

"I hope you understand that Harry could not have been allowed to carry on as your Consort. He was a cheat and a liar, he would have plotted against you again but been sneakier about it. I cannot have the North falling into chaos again and a North run by Hardyng and his bastards would have been a North doomed to fail". The Queen spoke kindly. "The Black would have been a possible alternative but I believe the better end was achieved, by the will of your people".

"I understand, Your Grace. I said the same myself to the Lords". Sansa replied in a small voice. 

"Will you share with us what vexes you? I didn't realise that you had such feelings for your husband. I should have told you to look away when Drogon finished him ." Queen Daenerys stated gently.

Sansa cleared her throat. "I had no fondness for Harry. Our union was a sham. You did the right thing, Your Grace and I thank the Gods that we have such a wise and noble Queen." She paused again. "Harry's death marks me as a woman needing a husband. I will be cajoled into a union with another".

Sandor looked at Tyrion and Daenerys, they were looking at her closely.

"As a mere child, I was betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon and despite his hate and cruelty towards me, I would have had to marry him. The Lannisters killed my father, mother, older brother, younger brothers and maybe my sister as well. I haven't seen Arya since the day my father was beheaded in Kings Landing. I've heard rumours that she is alive but can find no proof." She paused again to collect her thoughts. "The Lannister's married me to Tyrion to hold onto my claim, with no thought for my welfare as a terrified girl who had suffered such brutality".

"I am sorry for that, My Lady". Tyrion started, pain crossed his face.

"No! No My Lord. I am glad it was the case. They could have married me to anyone who would not have shown me the kindness and consideration you showed me, they chose the best Lannister to wed me to. I will remember how much pain you spared me until the very day I die. Please do not think I hold any grudge against you, you are not responsible for anything they did". Sansa covered his hand with hers. 

Tyrion said nothing but smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners. 

"Littlefinger and his behaviour had me begging The Stranger for his hand to lead me into death. Instead Littlefinger married me to Harry. You know how well that went." The tears streamed down her face as she wiped them absent-mindedly with her hand. 

"My whole life has been a sham! I am totally alone and without family in this world. My only value in the eyes of everyone else was my name, claim and maidenhead. Joffrey should have done me a favour all those years ago and allowed Blount or Trant to stick a sword in my gut - as he threatened to many a-time between the savage beatings. I have been a pawn in a game I don't want to play. The rightful Queen in on the Iron Throne and all the majority of my enemies are gone. Yet I find myself miserable." Sandor's face dropped."I will be expected to seek an alliance with another family, to strengthen the North, won't I? I have done my duty by my House, the North and the Realm but at what cost? How much more am I expected to suffer in the name of duty? I can't bear much more, Your Grace. I am still young but I've had one marriage annulled and now I find myself widowed. Maybe my House truly is cursed. You'll never secure the North through me, Your Grace, I will not be able to bear heirs. You may do well to find another who could secure the North more effectively, like Lord Umber. Nothing good has ever come of being allied with a Stark." The tears sprang from her eyes again. 

Sandor could see Tyrion's expression was tinged with sadness at Sansa's precis of her life so far. He stole a look at Daenerys and saw a similar expression mark her features.


	21. Suits of Woe

"Lady Stark, what do you know of my background?" Daenerys enquired gently.

"I know you left Westeros as a baby, after the sacking of Kings Landing". Sansa spoke carefully.

"That is correct. I will tell you some of my history but must insist it goes no further". The Queen insisted solemnly.

Everyone at the table nodded in assent.

"I was an unborn babe when the Kingslayer murdered my father during the Usurper's uprising. My mother and brother fled to Dragonstone, where I was born in the midst of a raging storm. My mother died shortly after childbed, after which my brother and I were spirited from Dragonstone by loyal servants, we were orphans after all. They feared that the same fate would befall my brother and I, lest they do to us what The Mountain did to my brother Rhaegar's children. That or we would be surrounded and starved. Either way, they knew our chances of survival were not good here." The Queen's eyes came to rest on Sandor. 

"That was nothing to do with me! I hate that cunt more than anyone else! If the Red Viper hadn't have finished him off then I would have. Look at how much love my brother had for me when I was just a boy!" Sandor pointed to the scarred part of his face. 

Daenerys gaped momentarily. "I am aware there was no love lost between you and your brother, Sandor. I wasn't aware that he was responsible for your scars. I am sorry. I don't blame you any more than I would blame Tyrion or Sansa for their fathers involvement in the uprising.".

Sandor nodded.

"Viserys and I were taken across the Narrow Sea and grew up on the charity of friends loyal to my family. My brother saw himself as the rightful King and gave me as a girl to a Dothraki horselord as payment for an army. My brother said he would have let the entire Khalasar of 40,000 men and their horses rape me if it meant he got to come home". Sansa's mouth widened in shock and Sandor's mouth tightened into a hard line.

"Drogo was good to me and love grew but I lost both him and our unborn son. Dothraki funeral custom demands a funeral pyre. I had one built as the last thing I could do for my Sun and Stars. My dragons hatched from the heat of his funeral pyre, his death brought my Dragons to life. Drogon is named in his memory, my most loyal and beloved child.." Daenerys smiled. "I returned here as the only Targaryen left in the world. My husband executed my brother for his threats against me." 

"I am not regaling you with my suits of woe for naught, Lady Stark. I just wish you to know that you aren't on your own in knowing pain, suffering and crippling loss. I too have been at the mercy of others and used a pawn in other people's schemes." She placed her hand over Sansa's. "Indeed, we here have all suffered as a result of the Game of Thrones but yet we are all here, the very last known of our Houses: Targaryen, Lannister, Stark and Clegane. I will dwell no longer on the past, it is where it should me. I will not hear of a marriage between you and anyone unless you can convince me personally that you really intend it. You will send me word if pressure is exerted on you to marry, I will not allow it". She smiled at Sansa reassuringly. 

Sansa smiled warmly back at her. "I thank you, Your Grace".

"Now to the dalliance between the two of you..." Tyrion started carefully.

"It is no dalliance, my dear Tyrion. Anyone who looks would see the love between them. I realised it the moment you stood up for Lady Sansa and made Harry crawl to her to apologise. That is something my fierce Drogo would have done because it would have hurt him to see me slighted so. I see a lot of Drogo's spirit in you, Sandor. You are indeed a Warrior in love are you not?" She enquired.

"Aye, it is true, Your Grace. I clawed myself back from the Stranger's grasp in the deepest of the Hells to find her. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep her safe". Sandor answered honestly.

"Ahhhhh. Now it is clear. You were the only person to stand up for Sansa in Kings Landing other than myself! I marvelled at the ferocious Hound, playing mother hen to a Northern girl. How could I have been so blind!" He slapped the table heartily. "You risked a lot to do so, Clegane. My nephew would have had your head if he had realised. Vicious little shit that he was". Tyrion gave him a sideways glance.

"She was worth the risk". Sandor confirmed.

"You loved me in Kings Landing? Why didn't you say?" Sansa was incredulous, she fell back in her chair.

"What does a scarred old Dog like me have to offer you? I am the second son of a minor house. I bring you nothing other than a terrible reputation and a sword you gifted me". Sandor smiled unevenly at Sansa's shocked face.

"I believe that the love that can offer nothing but itself is often the truest love of all". Daenerys had tears running down her face. "But if you wish to protect her and truly would do anything to keep her safe, you cannot be anything more than a guard and a friend. If this proves too much, you will need to put some distance between you. I'll be happy to find you a position in Kings Landing, Sandor".

"Thanks, Your Grace but I will never return to Kings Landing. There's nothing to keep me there". Sandor looked pointedly at Sansa.

Sansa looked aghast at the possibility of Sandor leaving and started crying at the words she had just heard. He met her eyes with great effort and nodded slowly.

"I heard what you said about believing your House to be cursed, Lady Stark. I do not believe this to be the case. You have been a victim of chance and circumstance. I mean for you to continue overseeing the North as Wardeness. If you do not wish to then I will need to know before I depart tomorrow". 

Daenerys paused.

"Since the death of your brother, Sandor, you inherit the titles and land that is your birthright. Unfortunately, Clegane Keep was razed to the ground in the backlash against your brother and his actions. You'll find a pile of rubble there and not much else."

"No matter. Nothing there other than bad memories and sheep shit anyway". Sandor tried to make light of his loss. "As a second son, I never thought it would be mine anyway".

"You have served Lady Sansa well. If you will accept, I would like to bestow lands on you, to replace that which you lost. There are plenty of keeps available that have been confiscated from traitors and enemies. Again, let me know before I leave".

"Thank you, Your Grace". Sandor mumbled.

"On the matter of the Vale. By right, it is yours Lady Sansa, although it is said that no one person should hold both the North and the East. If you consent, I would like to put another loyal Lord or Lady there, one who is not a Hardyng." Daenerys paused again.

"Of course, I too have nothing there but bad memories and ghosts". Sansa smiled. "It is a weight off me, Your Grace. Winterfell is my home".

"Excellent. The matter is settled then." Daenerys shot Tyrion a meaningful look. "Lastly. Should Lycas recover, I think you should make him your household Master Steward, allow him to help in the day to day management. I'm not telling you that you must, just suggesting it. If he recovers, please send a raven to me, I wish to reward him for his faithful service".

"I would like that, Your Grace". Sansa nodded earnestly. "Who knows what may have happened, had he not interfered with their plans".

"Very well. Tyrion, would you walk Lady Sansa back to her chambers?" Daenerys nodded at Tyrion.

"Of course. Come, my Lady". Tyrion ushered a shocked Sansa out of the door. She paused as she passed the threshold and looked back at Sandor. 

"Go on, Little Bird. I'll be fine. I'll remember my manners and I'll try not to shame myself in front of the Queen". Sandor smiled with a confidence he did not feel. Sansa gave a weak smile in return and passed through the door, Tyrion shutting the door as they left.

........................

His faced tingled with the weight of the Dragon Queen's stare. She seemed to be inspecting every minute detail of his face. He steeled himself, biting back the well used impulse to turn away or to lash out, as his automatic response to intense scrutiny had always been.

"Sandor Clegane. You are really not as I had expected you to be". Daenerys measured her words carefully.

"What did you expect when you found me?" 

"A monster, like your brother. A twisted man, full of hatred with a liking for death and destruction. You haven't drank much wine while we have been here, Tyrion told me your drinking and whoring was most legendary". Her tone was neutral.

"Had our paths crossed before, that is exactly what you would have found. Despite the whispers and rumours, I have never been like Gregor, Sansa will tell you that." Sandor drawled.

"What made you change? As I said to Sansa, our innate natures tend not to change much. I am having trouble reconciling what I have heard about you with the man before me". 

"I stood behind the Lannisters on that ugly Iron chair for too long, committing atrocities in the name of faithful service. I have no wife, no family, nothing of any value in my life. I had drinking, killing and whoring and fuck me, I was good at it. I tried to save Sansa after the Blackwater burned but she wouldn't come with me. Elder Brother found me, virtually dead of wounds and infection. He healed my body and helped settle my mind. I didn't have need of wine, women and killing after that". 

"You became a holy man? But you wear no cowl." Daenerys was incredulous.

"Oh hells! No. I am not so strong of mind that I can readily forget the taste of fine wines and the touch of a woman". Sandor guffawed.

"But you vow to leave Sansa alone? The lines cannot become blurred again." Daenerys questioned.

Sandor thought hard before providing an answer. "I have served my masters like a faithful Dog for most of my life. I was ready to hate you, Your Grace, just like the last prick who sat his arse on that blasted chair. But I can see you are different and just, not greedy and power mad like the rest of them. I can't promise to you that I will never know Sansa intimately again but I will promise that anyone who would do her ill will have to get through me to do so. I love Sansa and I will be to her whatever she needs me to be."

Daenerys eyed him in shock. "That is a very honest way of saying you will directly disobey my order".

Sandor shrugged. "I have no desire to lie to your face or give you hollow promises and carry on behind your back anyway. I'm not stupid enough to think my actions will go unanswered. Fire has destroyed my life once". He jerked a finger to his face. "I fear it like nothing else but I will not lose Sansa again".

Daenerys sat quietly for a few moments, Sandor wasn't sure if this was a subtle dismissal. 

"I understand if you want to take back your offer of giving me alternative lands. I've lived on my wits alone before, should I have to leave here then I can do so again". 

Her mouth twitched. "That didn't go so well last time, if Elder Brother found you virtually dead". 

"That is true. I was another person then. If I hadn't died of my wounds, I would have either starved or drank and fought myself into the grave anyway. The Hound died at the Trident so that Sandor Clegane could live. I owe myself a chance at a real life".

"You have given me much to ponder, Sandor Clegane. I am unhappy that you would be willing to disobey a direct order but your honesty is refreshing, if not bordering on suicidal. You are quite safe from Drogon, for now". Daenerys waved her hand at him in dismissal, he scraped back the chair and gave her a small bow. As Sandor left, he could see the Queen, deep in thought.


	22. Departures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the gap between chapters, I have another to add today.

On the morning after, Daenerys and Tyrion readied themselves for the journey back to Kings Landing. Drogon had landed and seemed raring to go, he had drawn a large and curious audience.

"I would stay longer, Lady Sansa but I have matters that require my attention. I am sorry I couldn't spare you more time". Daenerys said wistfully and grasped her hand. "I will come back soon."

Sansa dipped a curtsey. "I'm thankful of your speedy assistance, Your Grace. You don't know how much I appreciate it".

Tyrion smiled. "I am thankful of those 2 wineskins that Clegane snuck me. I believe I am floating already. Consider my nerves steeled!" He stumbled, even though he was stood still. 

"Is it wise to travel by dragon when in your cups, Tyrion?" Sansa addressed her former husband as he rushed to right himself.

Tyrion laughed and shook his head profusely. "I don't worry about it being wise. I'll just try not to fall off". A violent hiccup roiled his body and halted his mirth.

Daenerys giggled slightly. "Drogon may not have tried to eat you yet but you can't assume he's fond enough to try and catch you!" 

Tyrion smiled. "I know he loves me really. You may be his mother but I am unquestioningly his favourite!" 

Sandor guffawed at Tyrion's audacity. "It's been oddly pleasant to see you again, Half Man. I forgot how funny you are. I never thought I'd say that."

Tyrion gave a bashful dismissive wave of his hand. "And the same to you, Dog. I guess Lady Time and circumstance do change a man. I am funny though, what the Gods took from my height, they added extra in wit. Strange how that works, isn't it?"

"And modesty". Sandor supplied helpfully.

"It is my middle name. Although no-one rushes to sing songs of the redeeming qualities of us dwarves, so I needs do what I must to remind you of exactly what makes me so brilliant". Tyrion quipped with a straight face. "Tyrion Modesty Lannister, son of Tywin Goldshitter Lannister". His eyes widened slightly as he realised what he said. "Forgive me Your Grace, Lady Sansa. I forget myself in the presence of ladies. My mouth has always worked quicker than my brain". 

Daenerys smiled and beckoned Sandor forward. She presented her hand for him to kiss. He hesitated at first but complied with the gesture. Unlike the cowardly and avaricious Lannisters and their bastards, this was a Queen who would stab you in the front herself, rather than scheming for someone else to stab you in the the back. Sandor had come to respect her. As he rose, she stepped forward and whispered in his ear, leaving Sansa and Tyrion looking questioningly at the turn of events. 

"Ah, Clegane. We saw a great black stallion on the other side of the woods from here. He looked for all the world like he was trying to pluck Drogon from the sky. You wouldn't know anything about him, would you?" Tyrion shouted. 

"Stranger!" Sandor exclaimed in triumph. 

"Yes. I thought as much. He was near the Godswood. Farewell!" Tyrion waved 

Daenerys climbed onto Drogon and helped Tyrion find his footing behind her. 

Drogon rose slowly into the sky above Winterfell, as everyone waved at cheered at their departing Queen.

.....................

Sandor walked beside Sansa as they strolled away from the courtyard. "What did the Queen say to you?" Sansa enquired innocently.

"Nothing I will share as yet". Sador's mouthed twitched at Sansa's inquisitive question. "Where to now?" 

"I want to see Lycas, I feel badly for not checking in before". She stated sadly. 

...................

"How is he?" Sansa asked of the Maester. 

"He is as well as can be expected, My Lady. He's had moments of lucidity and then the rest he has been asleep. I've lowered his dose of milk of the poppy. He needs times and good food to heal his body. I am unsure of what toll the torture will have wrecked on his mind, though. He was confused earlier and was asking to see his Father. I didn't say anything to upset him, so be prepared in case he asks you". The Maester inclined his head respectfully before leaving.

Sansa sat beside Lycas and took his hand in hers. His face was still badly swollen, the Maester had managed to reset his nose. "Oh Sandor! Look at him". She wept softly. 

He placed his hand on her shoulder. "He'll improve, Little bird but he just needs time. He's a plucky little bastard, I'll give him that much. Torture is a nasty business. It doesn't sound like they managed to break him". At the sound of Sandor's throaty tones, Lycas opened an eye. It seemed to focus on Sandor. 

"Lovesick, Sandor?" Was all he could get out of his mouth but his mouth attempted to curl into a smile, before the pain put an end to it. Sansa jumped off her seat as Sandor released a gale of laughter. 

"I didn't realise you were funny, lad. Make a speedy recovery and you can hover over my bed anytime". Sandor laughed. Lycas looked like he found it funny before his eye shut again and he fell back into sleep.

Sandor turned to her and found her looking at him with questions lining her face. "It's a long story".


	23. Sanity

The days rolled by in quick succession since the departure of the Queen. A fortnight passed as quickly as anything. 

Sandor's time was consumed by guarding Sansa, searching for Stranger, training men in the yard and helping Lycas. Contrary to the Maester's stark warning, Lycas rose from his bed just over a sennight after his return to Winterfell.

"Easy lad, there's no prize for getting back on your feet so soon". Sandor chided gently, grabbing Lycas by his shoulder to steady him.

"I've rested in bed enough for a whole lifetime". He hobbled with determination, eager to enter the yard for some fresh air. "I can sleep when the final death takes me. I swear I shall never sleep a full night for the rest of my life".

Sandor laughed. "You say that now but a skin of Dornish red will put paid to that. You look better but there is a limit."

Lycas stopped abruptly, his hand clutched his side.

"Easy, lad" Sandor became concerned at the sudden halt.

"Just sore, it takes my breath away." 

"No need to rush. The yard will still be there tomorrow."

Lycas gave a shallow chuckle. "I will go quite insane if I have to stare at the same wall for another day. The Maester has been assessing my sanity, he thinks I don't know but I am on to him. He isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is".

"Maybe he didn't expect you to be as perceptive as you are. Torture changes a man and you have said very little of what you experienced. Are you sane?"

Lycas eased himself down on to a stone bench, his hand still clutching his side. "What's the point? I don't want to relive it. Locking it up in my head is the best thing I can do. My injuries will heal".

"My injuries didn't heal as well as yours will". He pointed to his face. "It took years of anger and self destruction before a wise man put the pieces of me back together. You're young, don't fuck your life up like I did because the past will affect you in the future, you mark my words lad."

Lycas gave him an unreadable stare.

"The Maester told Lady Sansa that you've been waking up screaming in your bed, enough that he is concerned by it..." Sandor spoke carefully.

"I still think I'm in the cabin, waiting for Harry to come and finish me off. I was so cold and scared, every inch of me hurt. I wanted to scream but I didn't have the energy. I guess I must be screaming now I am better but I can't control it." A solitary tear tracked its way down his face, Lycas made no attempt to wipe it away.

"After my brother did this to me. I used to dream that I was lying in my sickbed, fully alight. It was so real, I could feel the charring of my flesh, the pain was as searing as the heat. My brother and father stood by the side of my bed, ignoring my cries for help and water. The Master at my family Keep gave me enough milk of the poppy to knock out a whole town, it dulls the pain but it doesn't quell the agony going on in here. The mind does not forget so readily". Sandor tapped the side of Lycas' head gently. "I carried it my whole life, I won't let you carry it for all of yours."

Lycas nodded gently. 

"If Lady Sansa consents, I will send a raven to Elder Brother on the Quiet Isle and request his presence. He is the only person in the Realm that can truly help you as you need it. With luck, he will be willing to make the journey here". Sandor placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "In the meantime, Lady Sansa has enough to keep you busy, no doubt she'll tell you".

Lycas turned his face up to Sandor's quizzically. 

"Yes! My mind needs occupying otherwise the rot shall set in." Lycas was watching some of the servants bustling around, he seemed to be drinking in the sight of other people carrying on their duties as normal.

"That's settled. You need to go back to bed and Lady Sansa will visit you when she can." Sandor pulled Lycas to his feet gently and aided him back up the steps to his chamber.

"What of our fair Lady and you, my friend? I don't wish to pry but I do need to be up to speed if I am to help you with your secret meetings." The offer of help from Lycas touched Sandor but also poked a wound that he didn't want to explore.

"That won't be necessary, Daenerys found out and put a stop to it. Lady Sansa is avoiding me as much as she can. You won't need to sneak or lie on our behalf. Go carefully up the step". Sandor lifted Lycas gently up one of the steeper steps back to his room.

"Tis a great pity, that. Love is beautiful and should not be ignored..." His speech ended with a grunt as his foot caught on an outcrop of rock from the wall. "You've both been through so much, if you two don't deserve real happiness, then who in this Realm does?"

"It's not me you need to convince, lad. Say nothing to Lady Sansa, she's got enough to contend with other then our little liaison". Sandor opened the chamber door.

"You're fooling only yourself, my friend. 'Little liaison' indeed. Tsk, you disappoint me. This isn't the end for you and Lady Sansa and you know it". Lycas smirked up at Sandor's face as he laid Lycas down gently on his bed.

"I like you better when you're sleeping. Hush you". 

"I thought as much. Goodbye, Sandor". Sandor could see his eyes closing as he walked towards the door. 

"You're a thrice damned, mind reading, son of a woods witch". Sandor muttered under his breath.

"My body may be beaten up by my hearing is just fine. I shall take that as a compliment". Lycas didn't miss a beat.

"You bloody would". Despite his words, Sandor had a broad grin on his face as he shut the door softly behind him.


	24. An Offer

Sandor strode purposefully by Sansa's side and into the chamber that Lycas had been recovering in.

"Lycas! How are you feeling?" Sansa's demeanour had been chirpy for a while, even by her standards. Sandor knew she was concealing something. 

"Better, thank you Lady Sansa. I've been feeling better every day. Sandor has been coming to see me every day and helping me get some air and exercise." 

"Good. I am glad." Sansa sat at the chair by his bedside, taking his hand in hers. "When Queen Daenerys was here, she made a suggestion. I would like you to be my official right hand man, which you were anyway in all but title. You would help me in anything and everything I need you to. I should have done this before now. If you accept, you'll get better chambers and extra coin in your wages. You've done much more recently than I could have expected from you, please let me make it official."

Lycas sat stunned. "You would name me your second in command?"

"Steady lad, you're helping her with domestic tasks, not Master of the Guard". Sandor joked.

"I am sure you are glad for it, I should hate to make you seem as weak as a babe in the training yard. Yes, I'll let you train the guards and I'll stick to domestic matter". Lycas replied, smooth as a whip.

"I see your wit has fully returned to you lad. I'll let you have this one, the next one will earn you a clip around the ear". Sandor joked, waving a meaty fist in his direction.

"Consider me thoroughly warned". His words were solemn but the beam on his face told Sandor that Lycas was going to be alright.

"Good. Now that's settled. Sandor sent a raven to Elder Brother on the Quiet Isles half a sennight ago and received a response this morning. He said he would be happy to come and help you but there are matters he has to attend to first. He will be here at the turn of the next moon." Sansa spoke softly. "He will spare you as much time as he can, or you can travel there, if you prefer".

"No. I would stay here, if I may". 

"I agree, that would be best in your condition. Rest up now Lycas, you have lots to keep you busy already!" She patted his leg affectionately and rose from her seat, moving gracefully out of the door. 

"Stay out of trouble, leave the wine and lasses alone." Sandor pointed a thick finger in his direction. "No running around the halls wildly!"

"I am almost better now Sandor. I may hover over you while you sleep, you promised!" Lycas teased.

"So I did. I had hoped you would be too delirious to remember that". Sandor feigned sorrow.

"Get out". Lycas threw a rough hewn pillow half heartedly at Sandor. He waved and shut the door behind him.

.............

The journey back to Sansa's chamber was filled with uncomfortable silence, much as all their interactions had been since the day Daenerys left Winterfell.

"Little bird..." Sandor started as he closed and bolted her chamber door behind him.

"Sandor. We can't be so familiar any more". Sansa's features creased with sorrow.

"Says who?" Sandor bit out.

"Queen Daenerys". 

"Is she here? Will she know the name I call you? Does the Dragon Queen have hearing so good that it covers a few leagues?" Sandor teased as he ran a finger down her neck and trailed it down her arm. She shivered at the contact.

"It won't end at a nickname. I've missed you calling me that, I long to see you back in my bed. It's so lonely without you in it. I don't like you being outside my door, with the knowledge that it is the only place you can rightfully be. If you touch me then I won't be able to hold myself back". Sansa's wrung her hands together hard, the movement leaving a blotchy mark on her palm hands. 

"Little bird. I've missed you so much". Sandor placed his hands over hers, stilling the nervous wringing that had made her hands red. He pulled her towards him by her hands and held her tightly against him. 

She flung her arms around his neck. "Why won't Daenerys let us be together? It doesn't make sense. She won't let me marry for duty and she knows the only person I want is you."

"She doesn't know me, doesn't trust me. I think that she remembers my brother's role in her family's destruction only too well, despite what she said. I'm still a lowly Dog with nothing to offer."

"That's what she whispered to you?" Sansa's pitch rose into a squeak.

"No. She's too diplomatic for that. I believe it to be true though." Sandor shrugged.

"Well FUCK her! You are mine and I will have you!" Sansa's features twisted with angry passion that had he had seen when she saved his life from Harry's vengence. The Wolf had awoken from slumber.

She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him with an urgency that their separation had incited. Her hands roamed from his chest and down to his groin, eliciting a groan from him as her fingers lightly teased his bulging manhood. "You needs take me to the bedchamber. If you truly love me then you need to make me believe it". Her mouth whispered in his ear the words he had longed to hear.

He hoisted her without any effort into his arms and made for her bedchamber, eager to make up for the time they had lost.


	25. Pillow talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about how long it's taken me to post this chapter! Technology gremlins have hit, they've claimed a phone and a tablet that I used for writing :(

Darkness gave way to the dawn quicker than Sandor would have liked. With the rising of the Sun, a soft light was cast into the room, Sansa lay with her face on his chest, surrounded by his big arm. In sleep, her face was smooth and untroubled, completely untouched by the worries that the days inevitably brought.

"Little bird, I need to go now". He whispered in her ear. "Sun is up".

"Nurrrrrrrrh". She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open but still veiled by sleep. 

"What was that?" His mouth twitched in amusement.

"No. No. No. No." Her eyes searched his. 

"I have to, as much as I would love to keep you here all day". Sandor tried to gently roll her away from him but she gripped on tight, in an effort to pin him down. The slim fingers on his chest and arm gripped him tighter than bands of iron.

"No. We could leave Winterfell and go somewhere where no-one knows us! If I can't be with you as Sansa Stark then we'll go somewhere else, I've left my identity behind before, I will do it again. No-one will care about a couple of nobodies. I won't stop seeing you like this, I can't! Even if it makes me an oath breaker!" Sansa became erratic in her speech, her chirping replaced with a timbre laden with frantic desperation. 

He stroked her hair, something he knew would calm and soothe her. "What oath have you broken exactly? You are no longer married. Did you swear an oath to Daenerys that I'm not aware of? I didn't." 

She shook her head slightly. "No. I made no formal vow but she made it clear that we can't be together".

"You cannot leave Winterfell, after everything you went through to get back here. I won't allow it!" Sandor was firm in his assertion, he wouldn't allow her to give up her birthright for him.

"You 'won't allow it?' And since when do you presume to tell me what to do, Sandor Clegane?" Her eyes glinted with an edge that should have surprised him, had he not seen it before. She had always been a placid thing at Kings Landing, save for the few instances of defiance that would have cost her everything. Sandor had observed the softness replaced with unyielding grit, something more volatile than a barrel of wildfire and harder than the frozen landscape of the North. Sandor remembered the time she put Harry in his place to save Sandor's life, it felt like a lifetime ago. 

"I don't tell you what to do. You make your own decisions. I won't be a part of you giving up Winterfell and being Wardeness, not for me". Sandor was resolute.

"I wouldn't be giving it up for you, I'd be giving it up for us". A wild ferocity crossed her face like a lightening bolt. "Why are you letting the Queen tell you what you can do? I have to be seen to be obeying her orders but I thought you would do exactly as you pleased, like you did with Joffrey. Oh Gods! That's it isn't it? I gave myself to you and that's all you wanted!" She peeled herself off him and sat upright. "You've had all of me and that's it, isn't it? I was fun while I was safely married to Harry and now I'm here, you don't want me." Her naked form stepped from the bed and stood up, clothing hurriedly. "How could I have been so stupid to believe that you could love me? You're using the Queen as an excuse not to get any closer to me, a guard and a bed companion is all you want to be to me, isn't it? It's not even like you have to worry about getting me with child either, as apparently I am failure in even my most basic bodily functions!" Sansa ended up raising her voice.

Sandor stood opposite her, dumbstruck. "Silly little bird. You really don't..."

"Don't patronise me, Ser Clegane. I'm right! The Queen would never know..." She started.

He placed a large finger across her lips, forcing her into silence. "Don't be a bitch, Lady Stark, it doesn't suit you. You know full well I'm no knight. If anything, you should address me as Lord Clegane, if you feel the need to be so formal". 

"How dare you mock me!" She reached a hand across in a half hearted attempt to strike his face. He plucked her wrist from its path and grasped it gently

"Now. That wasn't ladylike, was it Wardeness? You will be quiet and listen or by the Stranger himself, I will tie you to a chair and gag you!" Sandor spoke as gently as he could muster. "Will you be quiet and listen?" 

Sansa nodded her head with widened eyes, he removed his hand from her wrist.

"You know I don't lie and on these points you have my word - I would gladly fuck you bloody on every day of every month, I will never tire of you. I'd like to wake up next to you every day for the rest of my days, even if it means I have to creep around like a gutter rat to preserve your reputation. I will do anything I must to keep you safe and ensure your happiness, even if that means rounding up a hoard of snotty nosed toddlers as wards for you to fuss over. You are not a failure. You are perfect. You are a Stark and Winterfell must be your home, you were meant to be Wardeness. You can forget those birdbrained schemes of running around the Realm, I won't let you because I love you too much. I won't do anything to publicly oppose what Daenerys said about us because I'd rather we were living, rather than Drogon's next meal".

Sansa's eyes were red rimmed and brimming with tears. "I'd rather die with you than live a lie for the rest of my life, I want everyone to know how much I love you. I can't let anyone take you away from me".

"Aye, I'd like that too but it cannot be, can it?" Sandor wrapped her up in his arms. Sansa calmed as he held her, she stiffened and pushed off him.

"What if we could?" Her eyes were wild with possibility.

"How?" He measured his words carefully.

"I want you but I won't be made to feel like we are doing anything wrong. I won't have you having to skulk around either. Sandor Clegane, you are going to marry me!" She smiled proudly.

......................

"Marry you? Would Daenerys..." Sandor started.

"Once we are wed in the eyes of the Old Gods, what could she do? Murder us with dragonfire because she doesn't approve of our union? She's welcome to come back with Drogon and murder the last Stark in front of everyone, we'll see how long she holds that ugly chair then!" Sansa smiled triumphantly. "A marriage before the Old Gods is every bit as binding as before the Seven."

"What about the Vale?" Sandor tried to think of all angles.

"What about it? Either they'll accept their master is gone and move on under the new Lord or Lady Daenerys is placing there, or they'll risk coming here and receiving the same end as Harry." Sansa smirked. "I believe I have been all too concerned about other people for entirely too long. The risk of Winterfell being overthrown by stragglers from the Vale is hers as well as ours, she needs us".

Sandor was stunned into temporary silence.

"What do you say? Will you make me your wife before the Old Gods?" Sansa asked him. Sandor hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath.

"I didn't realise you were a master schemer, strategist or game player. Tywin bloody Lannister would have won the War if he'd realised the potential in you." Sandor mused aloud. He met Sansa's expectant face with a small smile.


	26. Meet Me At The Heart Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so fluffy it might just be nauseating!
> 
> I stole the wedding words from GOT wikia, it may vary slightly from how it appears in the books.

At twilight, every soul from Winterfell gathered in the Godswood. The closing gloom was chased off by torches, lighting the path to the Heart Tree.

Sandor stood looking at the strange face within the tree. The red sap, though seemingly solid, it had an odd viscous quality about it, as thought the red tears would freely flow at any minute. 

The Maester stood before him, looking as nervous as Sandor felt. His hands fidgeted with the rough brown fabric sleeve of his Maester's robe.

"Sandor Clegane, this is most irregular. A Maester doesn't oversee weddings, it is simply not my place...."

"You are doing this for Lady Sansa, no-one said you have to become a priest. It is my understanding that the groom's father normally officiates Northern weddings but my father is long dead. You are the eldest of everyone at Winterfell, the job should be yours." Sandor spoke gruffly, lost in his own thoughts. "If you are not willing then we shall find another but you were Lady Sansa's first choice. You are familiar with the Northern way I assume?"

The Maester fixed Sandor with a stony glare. "Young man. I was a Northerner before I forged my links at the Citadel. I've been attending weddings since before you were a sparkle in your father's eye. I was a contemporary of Maester Luwin and when he was murdered by the Boltons, I came here to continue his work".

Sandor grinned. "So that's a yes then?"

The Maester nodded. "It is not traditional but I suppose there is nothing against it."

"That will please Lady Sansa. You have my thanks." Sandor inclined his head to the Maester in recognition of his acceptance of the role.

The Maester looked past Sandor. "She is here".

Sandor's head whipped around to see Sansa. Her posture was flawless as usual and her deportment made great ladies of other houses look like graceless slatterns in comparison. After first glance, Sandor noticed that she cut a lonely figure as she made her way towards him along the path. He recognised her gown as a simple and warm garment that she had worn many times before. As the flickering flames of the torches stilled, he could see tears streaking down her face. It struck Sandor that this was her third wedding and the third time she had approached the Gods without the comfort of family or a friendly face by her side. His eyes rested on Lycas, whose expression seemed just as pained at the sight before him. With great difficulty, Lycas hobbled over to Sansa and offered his arm. A smile broke out on Sandor's face as Sansa smiled at Lycas in gratitude and resumed her path towards the tree. 

Lycas moved slowly and with great effort, Sansa seemed to be supporting him and he leaned on her unashamedly. Eventually they stood before him. In yet another break of tradition, Sandor left his place and move to stand before her. He wiped her tears away gently with his large thumb, he could only hope that they were tears of joy and not regret.

The Maester cleared his throat. "Who comes before the Old Gods this night?"

"Sansa of House Stark comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" Lycas intoned clearly.

Sandor stepped forward, as he had been instructed to. "Sandor of House Clegane. Who gives her?"

Before Lycas could respond, Sansa spoke unexpectedly. "I am the Lady of Winterfell and the Wardeness of the North. I present myself for marriage with this man. I have no Father or brothers but I offer myself in marriage to this man of my own volition because I love him".

A small murmur rose from the people gathered. 

The Maester continued. "Lady Sansa, will you take this man?" 

Sansa's eyes locked on Sandor's and she replied without hesitation. "I will".

The Maester nodded solemnly.

A grin stretched on Sandor's face as he took her hand and together, they knelt before the Weirwood in reverent silence for a few moments. Sandor's relationship with the Gods - old or new - was sketchy to say the least. Before the encounter with the Stranger, he would have said that the Gods were not real, they had certainly done him no favours. Kneeling before the ancient tree with the people of Winterfell behind them and the Godswood cloaked by darkness, Sandor wasn't sure whether it was his own happiness making him euphoric or the presence of the Old Gods themselves, acknowledging their union.

The Maester spoke again. "You may now go forth from this place, bound in marriage in the sight of the Gods."

Sandor offered her his hand and they led the way back to Winterfell. 

..............

They sat side by side on the featherbed in Sansa's chamber for the first time as husband and wife.

"Do you not regret having only a simple meal instead of a feast and no guests of any note? Your gown too, I have seen you wear it before. The celebration we had wasn't exactly worthy of the Wardeness..." Sandor's voice trailed off.

She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It would take too long for anyone to get here and I didn't think it a good enough reason to delay. We can't afford to be extravagant with our provisions, Winter is coming." Her face softened as she glanced at him. "I would have worn one of the scratchy brown flour sacks from the bakehouse as long as it meant we could be wed".

Sandor was dumbstruck by the sentiments of his new wife. A lump formed unbidden in his throat. "Little bird...You were crying as you reached the heart tree. I know it's not the wedding you would have liked."

"The vain, shallow girl you met in Kings Landing would have agreed with everything you said and would have been horrified by our wedding. Our wedding is the only time I have had any choice in the matter. I could tell from the way you were looking at me that you love me. The marriage is more important than the wedding and I shall never marry again". Her hand stroked the lumpy mass of his scars.

"I only wanted you to have the wedding you deserve, I don't have much but I wanted everything to be the best I could give you". He sniffed, oddly emotional and fighting the moisture pooling in his eyes. The water flooding his eyes was an odd sensation for him, while it wasn't unfamiliar, it certainly hadn't happened in a very long time.

Sansa's blue eyes became watery as she thought of what he had said. "You already have given me what I want. You gave me yourself. I shall never want for anything else. We have come so far, you and I. I can only hope we have as far yet to go together".

Sandor felt his heart pierce with her statement, an unfamiliar rush of emotion warmed his core. The battle to control the wetness in his eyes was lost and he felt tears flow freely from his eyes, as they did from hers too. He finally identified his emotion as blissful happiness, a condition he had never experienced before. 

She gave an unladylike sniff and stood up. "Now. How about we consummate this marriage before songs are sang of how Sansa and Sandor Clegane drowned themselves in tears on their wedding night?" 

A growl forced its way through his lips and he grabbed a handful of her gown to pull her towards him.

.....................

Sandor was awoken the morning following his wedding by a small rap to Sansa's chamber, although he supposed now it was also his bedchamber now. 

"My Lady, My Lord? It is Janyt the chambermaid. May I enter?"

He covered Sansa's naked form with furs and grunted an affirmative, careful not to wake her. 

A slight woman with muddy brown hair entered the chamber carefully and quietly. She kept her eyes trained on the floor before her. 

"'xcuse the interruption My Lord. I brought you food to break your fast and wine. I'll light you a fire and be out of your way in no time, if that's alright?" Her eyes studied the floor intently as she whispered in a voice that was only just audible. This would have enraged Sandor in times gone by but now he wasn't bothered. 

"Aye. You didn't have to, we could have got up. I can light my own fire".

"It's no problem, My Lord. I will be only a few moments". Janyt placed the tray down carefully on a chest and sped over to the hearth, careful to keep her back to the bed. Sandor peered over and could barely keep up with her fast movements. She swept the last of the ashes out of the hearth and banked the fire, setting a piece of kindling alight and stoking the flames carefully until they had established. True to her word, she had only been a few minutes, Sandor had never seen a decent fire made as quickly. She retraced her steps to the door, her eyes still trained by her feet. 

"Thank you". Sandor said sincerely. 

"You are welcome, My Lord. I am happy for you both, everyone is. You will be the only husband my Lady has had that will look after her as she deserves. I don't mean to speak out of turn but it is true". She bobbed a small curtsey and left quickly.

Sandor lay down again beside his new wife, he drank in every detail of her sleeping face, thinking for all the world that he was in a dream.


	27. Dark Wings

Happiness seem to permeate the stone walls of Winterfell. Sandor and Sansa's wedded bliss hung like a banner for everyone to see, evident mostly by the adoring looks passed between the two and the smiles that covered their faces when they thought no-one was looking. Winterfell once again had the happy, secure, warm and inviting atmostphere that it had possessed in Sansa's childhood. 

Until the Raven landed. 

Maester rapped at the chamber door. "Enter!" Sansa invited delicately, they were sat breaking their fast, just a sennight from the simple wedding ceremony.

He shuffled in slowly. "Begging your pardons Lord Sandor and Lady Sansa. A Raven arrived not long ago bearing a message for you". The Master handed over a rolled note, sealed with a blob of wax and stamped with a seal. He dropped it into Sansa's outstretched hand before taking his leave.

Sandor observed her paling face before her hands started trembling. "A Dragon sigil, her Grace has sent us a message". He observed, completely unnecessarily.

"Dark wings, dark words". Sansa muttered quietly to herself.

"Nonsense. It's just a message". Sandor said firmly, taking the message from her hand. He broke the seal and unfurled the paper.  
"She acknowledges and congratulates us on our marriage, wishing us a long and happy life together. She wishes to give us a wedding gift when the time is right".

"A what? How could she know? Does she have spies here?" Sansa fidgeted in her chair, looking this way and that.

"No, little bird. I sent a Raven to inform her. It wouldn't do to have her hearing it second or third hand from your flower merchant or travelling tradesman. It was the right thing to do". 

"Yes, you are right. Of course you are right, hearing it from anyone else would have been an insult". She stilled and squeezed his hand. "I hope by 'a long and happy life' that she isn't thinking of making us dragon food". 

Sandor barked out a harsh and throaty laugh. "Of course not". 

"How can you be so sure?" Sansa gaped at him. "Her words may say one thing but we are not out of the woods yet for true".

"She told me. Do you remember she whispered something to me before she left?" Sansa nodded earnestly. 

Sandor paused before answering. "She told that she had thought about what we said and she agreed that there should be no reason why we shouldn't be together after everything we have been through. She gave us her blessing". Sandor watched the news sink in, there was no change in her flawless poise, as many would falter given the shock. 

Finally, the news seemed to filter though and sink in, Sansa's eyes widened. "Why would you not tell me? Why didn't she tell me? We could have been together much sooner!"

"That was her only stipulation. I wasn't to tell you what she had said or influence your decision to be together in any way. If you were willing to disobey her then it was proof of how you felt about me. Tyrion must have told her how eager to please you always were at Kings Landing and how you would never do something so discourteous unless the circumstances were extraordinary".

"And what if I hadn't?" Sansa shifted forward in the chair. "What if I had done Her Grace's bidding and stayed away from you?"

"It was a risk I had to take. Her Grace knows I am no liar and she knows you were raised to be the model of a courteous and obedient lady." Sandor shrugged and continued tearing into his breakfast.

Sansa sat stunned, pushing the small plate of food away from her like it disgusted her. "Our whole future hinged on me disregarding the orders of our anointed Queen? Many people have been put to death for less." 

"Aye. Paid off though, didn't it?" He gave her a lopsided grin and loaded up a second plate of bacon and eggs. 

Sansa laughed. "Quite! I am still shocked that she has given us her blessing. What do you suppose she wants to give us as a wedding present?" 

"I don't know little bird. As long as it isn't a dragon than I shall be quite happy."

Sansa broke into an unladylike paroxysm of laughter as Sandor looked on, thanking the old Gods and the new that his little bird was finally happy.


	28. Old Friends

Each day as husband and wife was better than the one before. 

Sandor was training with the men in the yard as he heard a cry form the watchtower to open the gates. "Elder Brother!" He pushed his opponent to the ground and dropped his sword, before he made his way over to the man who had saved his life. He watched Elder Brother dismount his horse. 

"Greetings, Sandor. Are you well?" Elder Brother stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. 

"Aye. Very well. Sansa and I are married!" Sandor glanced carefully at the man who was more like a father to him than his own father had ever been. 

The older man's face cracked out into a warm and sincere smile. "I heard from some of your men. I am happy for you both, it will be good to put a face to the name, I have heard so much about her. Congratulations, Sandor. You are like a new man."

"She makes me a better man". Sandor answered humbly with the truth. 

Elder Brother nodded. "I can see marriage suits you well. To that end, I have a gift for you". 

Sandor shook his head. "I won't hear of it. You need everything you have for the Brothers, Winter is coming. In fact, I am sure Sansa said want to sort out some provisions she has spare you can take back with you"

Elder Brother chuckled. "You can see it first and refuse it if you wish. I can always make use of it back on the Quiet Isle". Elder Brother signalled to his hooded assistant, who brought forward a great black stallion. 

"Stranger!" Sandor ran to his horse, who was thin and looking a bit worse for his adventures. Stranger pulled away from the Brother holding his reins and trotted over to meet Sandor. "I haven't seen you in so long! What have you been doing, you old bastard! You evaded every search effort I made for you on purpose, I swear it. Is there an explosion of bad tempered black foals around these parts? Were you having too good a time?" He stoked Stranger's nose gently and the horse nickered in greeting.

"We found him in the tree line not far from here or rather, he found us. I think he recognised my voice. He followed well enough, not for the first time". Elder Brother smiled, alluding to the circumstances of their first encounter.

"Elder Brother, will you come to the stables? I want to see to Stranger myself, we have been apart for far too long." Sandor waited for Elder Brother to nod his head and made for the stables.

Sandor led a reluctant Stranger to a fresh stall and waved away the stableboys, Sandor supposed that Stranger was no longer used to being confined in a stable and he didn't want the stableboys bearing the brunt of his anger. He filled the stall full of hay and food. He refreshed the water and closed the stall door. "Eat and rest you old bugger, we'll resume riding as soon as possible, can't have you getting fat and lazy on hearty Northern food". Strange tore into the food and hay like a horse that hadn't satisfied his hunger for a long while.

He turned his face from Stranger and saw Elder Brother regarding him silently. "Have you missed me so much that you are drinking in the sight of my ugly face?"

Elder Brother laughed. "It is true. We all miss you, even Brother Hayden The Quiet Isle shall never know a gravedigger as efficient as you".

Sandor gaped. "No! I almost broke his jaw. He can't miss me".

Elder Brother nodded. "It is true, Brother Hayden happened to be within punching distance of you and what you believed was your wineskin but you were delirious from fever due to your wound, you were almost dead after all! He doesn't bear a grudge".

Sandor nodded soberly, a flood of memories pushing to the fore of his mine. The early days of his time at the Quiet Isle were marked by intense pain which was unmedicated by wine as he normally would. His injured leg healed faster than anyone had anticipated, it was Elder Brother helping him wade through the morass of his gnarled mind that took the longest time. 

"What of the Hound? Have we truly put him to rest?" Elder Brother enquired quietly. "It has been a long while since our paths have crossed".

"Aye, I believe it to be true". Sandor needed no time to think. "For the most part, it it hard to think we were one and the same".

"And the Lady Sansa?" Elder Brother had long since learned how to get to the bottom of the matter without needling. Sandor had snapped at him relentlessly in the early days of their relationship over what he saw as prying. 

"She saw me at my drunkest, most bloodthirsty worst. She knows what I am capable of but yet she loves me anyway and married me. Fuck knows what I did to deserve her. I have no idea". Sandor bowed his head at the introspection. 

"May I be allowed to answer that question?" Sansa herself spoke from the doorway to the stable. "The stableboys said they saw you both come in here. Elder Brother, it is a pleasure to meet you. Sandor has told me what you did for him and I can't begin to thank you." Sansa moved to Sandor's side and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Lady Clegane, I have heard a lot about you, I am glad of the opportunity to put a face to the name". Elder Brother smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkled. "I was happy to patch Sandor up as best I could because it was the will of the Gods and I am their mere instrument. Seeing Sandor happy, settled and living well is all the thanks I could ever need". Elder Brother folded his arms in front of him in the sleeves of his brown robe. 

"I have some provisions for you to take back with you. Sandor told me you would likely refuse but I insist. Should I leave you two alone?" She enquired, looking from one seated man to the other. 

"That will not be necessary, my Lady. If I could humbly ask for a bowl of water to wash in and a mug of water to quench my thirst, I shall be a happy man." Elder Brother sounded tired to Sandor, that was no wonder given the length of the journey. It had almost been too much for Sandor when he made the same journey and Sandor was many years Elder Brother's junior. 

"You didn't offer him refreshment? Sandor! Whatever will our guest think of us!" Sansa's expression was horrified. For a split second, Sandor could see Catelyn Stark staring out at him through his wife's eyes. Catelyn Stark had been a stauch believer in hospitality and guest rites.

"Err, no. Sorry Elder Brother. I was seeing to Stranger, Elder Brother found him". Sandor motioned to the stall next to them, where even now the munching noises of the hungry stallion could be heard above the noises of the other horses in the stables. Sandor felt as near to shame as he ever had.

"Stranger! It's been many a moon's turn since I last laid eyes on you". Sansa murmured, glancing into the stall apprehensively, she had not seen him since Kings Landing. 

"It's no matter my Lady, renewing old friendships nourishes the soul". He smiled.

"Come. I will see about nourishing your body too, there must be no delay. Please follow me". Sansa bustled from the stable and beckoned them to follow. She led them back to their chambers, instructing a maid to order food immediately from the kitchen. 

"Please be seated Elder Brother, your food will be with you shortly". Sansa sat beside her husband, Elder Brother sighed as he shifted in the seat. "Did you have a pleasant journey?"

Elder Brother drank from his cup of water deeply, seemingly weighing his answer carefully. "The Realm has seen a lot of suffering in recent times, none know that better than the two of you. The hallmarks are left strew over the land. Hungry smallfolk, kinless children, widowed women and parents without their children. It takes a hard heart to see it up close and not be affected by it. To answer your question my Lady, the journey itself was straightforward on these old bones but the human cost of recent events have marked my soul badly. You see my Lady, we are sheltered on the Quiet Isle, the normal politics of the Realm pass us by. That is how Sandor managed to recuperate undetected by his enemies." He took another sip. "We passed many small towns and hamlets. Some were ghost towns. One such town the men left and answered the call to arms of their liege lords and never returned. The womenfolk petered out and the town is abandoned, having no more living bodies nearby to fill it. We stayed over in the barn of a house, it was exactly how they had left it, almost as if they had ventured out of the town for a brevit and would return any minute to scold us for trespassing on their property. It was a most strange feeling. The fire was already banked in the main house, someone was thinking ahead to a time that never happened for them. There is a lesson in that for us all". A chill descended on the room as Elder Brother finished speaking, it rolled right down Sandor's spine.

"That happened around here". Sansa whispered. "The Boltons wiped out whole families that displeased them".

"A most grave sin indeed, my Lady." Elder Brother affirmed. "We must rejoice that they are no longer a threat".

"What do you make of Queen Daenerys?" Sandor prodded.

"I haven't had the pleasure of her acquaintance as yet but I hear good things. She is meant to be just, that has been sadly lacking in recent times". Elder Brother paused as the door to the solar opened and a maid entered holding a tray. She placed it before Elder Brother and was dismissed by Sansa. "This is a feast for the eyes!" Sandor marvelled at Elder Brother's continued ability to enjoy the simple things in life: half a roasted chicken, bread, butter, hard cheese, an apple and a lemon cake. "I am a simple man and my needs are few." He bowed his head and joined his hands together. "I thank the Gods for their continued blassings. I thank them for guiding me safely to Winterfell and for the chance to meet old friends and new. I thank them for Sandor's continued health and for the happiness he has found with his lady wife, Sansa." Elder Brother's eyes pinged open and he grabbed the cutlery like his life depended on it. "I am aware that I have filled the time I have been here with my own voice. Please, tell me of how you came to be married, if it please you Lady Sansa. I must admit, I fully believed that you would ask me to officiate a wedding". He tore a chunk of bread off and spread the creamy yellow butter generously on top of it.

Sandor listened intently as Sansa provided an account of their time since Sandor returned to Winterfell. He interjected a few times, mainly as she had a tendency to downplay her strength and courage in ruling the North for all of this time. 

"Your own husband conspired against you in order to rule the North with an army of his bastards? Oh Lady Sansa, how you must have suffered!" Elder Brother gazed at her intently, a look that Sandor recognised when he was probing what he believed to be an area of internalised pain. 

"It is true. Queen Daenerys put him to death by dragonfire just up on the hill for his crimes. The man you are here to help, Lycas, was tortured to near death because he learned of the plot and Harry was worried he had alerted me". Sansa's face dropped. "Harry's death was necessary. I had not thought it possible but he would have seen me dead because I could bear him no heirs". Sansa's repressed tears broke free and wracked her body. Sandor had seen the barely repressed longing on her face when smallfolk entered an audience with her and brought their babies swaddled up but he couldn't find the words to broach the subject with her for fear of upsetting her. 

"Lady Sansa". Elder Brother's chair scraped back noisily across the flagstones in the solar. "May I approach you?"

Sansa nodded wordlessly. 

Elder Brother took her small hand and wrapped his around it gently. "It may be of little solace presently but experience has taught me that the Gods have a plan for us all. I am a firm believer in the right thing happening at the right time. Harry was wrong for you and you gained nothing but bad memories from that experience. You are a strong young lady. We might not understand it but their purpose for you will become clear, there is time to despair when we are in the grave. The Old Gods are still Gods, are they not? They work as mysteriously as the Seven. Of this I am most certain."

"This was my childhood home, it has seen so much death. Do the Gods punish me for the bloodshed here? Do they prevent me from producing an innocent life because the environment is indelibly stained by suffering and death so?" Sansa's small voice broke Sandor's heart all over again. 

"No! No, my Lady. Every great House has stories such as yours, the songs and stories we know of them are diluted to make them more palatable. You have done nothing wrong, their plan for you is as yet unrevealed. I am convinced of it". He returned back to his chair. and resumed his destruction of the food. "What are your plans going forward?" 

Sandor looked to Sansa, who was still blotting her eyes delicately. "Lycas is in serious need of your help. He is the priority at the moment. Sansa has pulled together all of the stocks to ensure our survival through the Winter. I want to check security and make sure our defences would hold if necessary."

Elder Brother had been about to take a bite of the freshly baked lemon cake but it paused in mid air. "Are you expecting to be tested?" 

"It is a definite possibility. There are those who resent the execution of my ex-husband and may try to kill me or Sandor in retaliation, especially as we are now wed".

Elder Brother gazed at Sansa earnestly. "Revenge is a very strange emotion. It can drive people to self destruction but can also be a reason to carry on living. It is a strong motivator indeed but it poisons the soul". Sansa missed the pointed look that he shot Sandor. "I find myself weary. With your leave, I will retire. Old bones don't travel as well as young ones". He bowed to Sansa and slipped from the room, leaving husband and wife alone.


	29. Thankful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realise I am a few more chapters ahead, so doubled up today's to get the story moving. There are possibly 4-5 more chapters left.

Sandor recognised the methods Elder Brother used to help Lycas as similar he used to those he used on Sandor himself, it had been a full turn of the moon since Elder Brother's arrival at Winterfell. Elder Brother had kept him fully updated on the progress he made but if Sandor were a devout man, he would say that Elder Brother worked miracles on his troubled friend.

Sandor enquired discreetly with the guards he had asked to check on Lycas nightly during their rounds. His sleep terrors lessened gradually, the people in adjacent rooms complained less about being woken up by screaming and violent banging on the walls adjoining theirs. Lycas began dining in the Great Hall with everyone else, he moved freely and his eyes darted around the rooming searching for threats less.

Sandor made a point of saving this news for Sansa as they met in their chamber for a mid morning snack. 

"Lycas is getting better, Little Bird! I can see it. Elder Brother said there has been an improvement in him and they are making progress! Elder Brother will be returning to the Quiet Isle, such is Lycas's recovery " He looked to her expectantly. "Little Bird, aren't you happy?" Her face was ashen and she fought back tears. "No! He's getting better, don't cry, Elder Brother has done everything he can to help him". 

"I know. I am eternally glad for it". She answered briefly. Her demeanour surprised him, she had been so worried about him for so long. 

"What's going on?" Sandor demanded. "Has someone said something to upset you?" 

"Yes". Though not overly verbose, her introspection gave Sandor cause for concern.

He sighed. "I need a little more detail than that, I can't read your bloody mind! Tell me who has upset you and I shall have words. This is unlike you".

"The Maester". Her face revealed nothing other than reddened eyes. 

"What has that bloody fool done? I swear by the Gods I will..."

"He told me I am with child". 

Sandor's mouth hung somewhere near legs of his chair. His heart quickened until he thought it might burst from his chest. Time stood still in the chamber, he stared at Sansa without really seeing her. The crackling of the logs in the hearth was the only noise in the room, although the blood that rushed to his head seemed to eclipse and of the waterfalls he had encountered in the Riverlands. Tywin fucking Lannister's reanimated corpse could come dancing through the centre of this very room and not be as shocking as the news his wife had just delivered. 

"Sandor? I said I am with child. We will have a baby soon, Gods willing." Sansa grasped his hand and squeezed. "Are you happy?"

He snapped to his senses. "What? But how?"

"How does any couple conceive a child?" Sansa smiled playfully at him. He could feel the confusion on his face. "The Maester told me that sometimes, prolonged times of worry can affect the way a woman's fertility. I'm been under incredible pressure for a very long time, plus Harry gave up giving me his seed. I'm not barren. I know we didn't think it was a possibility, please tell me what is in your heart, I can't bear the silence". 

Sandor was still for a good few minutes, he could see Sansa's face falling by the second. He scraped his chair back quickly and was barely conscious of the sound of wood bouncing off the flagstones. He approached his wife, although her eyes were as wide as the plate on the table. Falling to his knees, he came to rest in front of her chair and gently placed his hand hand on her flat of her belly. "The only thing I could love as much on this Earth other than you is a child of ours. I swear on my life and on the names of every God who is or ever was, our child shall not know the hardship and suffering that you and I have endured. People may look at me and see a soft, changed man but I swear by the Stranger himself that there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect you and our child. While there is breath in my body, I will be the best father and husband I can be".

Sansa's body wracked with sobs. "You already are, Sandor. Truly, you are".

..................

"My Lord, My Lady". Elder Brother entered their chamber, responding to their invitation to join them.

"Please sit, Elder Brother". Sansa invited.

Sandor looked at Elder Brother, whose gaze was flicking between his face and Sansa's.

"We have something we would like to tell you before you depart..." Sandor started, his hand covering Sansa's on the table before them.

"There is to be a child!" Elder Brother's face broke out in the biggest grin Sandor had ever seen. "I can see it written all over your faces".

Sansa nodded and her eyes were streaming tears of happiness. "We found out only today, the Maester assures me there is no mistake about it".

"Only a moon's turn ago, we sat in this very place and spoke about the will of the Gods. I think you now know what that is." Elder Brother motioned with his hand. "They may not work in a straightforward manner but their will is always done. This is cause for thanks indeed". Elder Brother's grin had not left his face.

"Yes. Will you join me in the Godswood Elder Brother? We have told no-one else as the Maester said it is early days, we would appreciate it if you could keep the news private for a while". Sansa requested softly. 

"Of course my Lady, my discretion is assured. I will gladly join you in the Godswood". Elder Brother bowed his head. 

"And what of Lycas? He must be better if you are leaving us". Sandor enquired. 

He nodded earnestly. "The worst part of Lycas's affliction was not the torture itself, it was the potent fear and worry that it brought out in him. We have talked extensively about his troubles and he has strategies in place to deal with his feelings and fears. Much as you, Sandor, he may need these strategies reaffirming from time to time, if the nightmares manifest again. He feels he is able to cope with more duties and would like to start taking the full range of them up again, if it please you. You are equipped to help him, Sandor, if you will. My door is always open for him on the Quiet Isle but I fear I must leave tomorrow, the brothers have been coping without me this long but they have a tendency to stray from their routines if I am gone too long." 

"Of course, Elder Brother. We will have your horses readied and send with you a cart of the provisions Lady Sansa wishes to give you". 

"Thank you my Lady, your generosity knows no limits". Elder Brother smiled at her. "I have seen the pile of cloth, blankets, candles, shoes and wine on my way here. The Brothers have never been as well fed or garbed as they will be now. Are you sure you can spare so much? Winter hits you so hard here, I should hate to think that you have given us things you need yourself."

"Quite sure Elder Brother. We confiscated a lot from Harry's men, so you are doing me a favour in removing it from my sight. I have instructed the Baker to ready five sacks of milled grain for you, as well as bread for your journey home. Sandor tells me that you produce most of your own food but I hope this will ease your burden, you have done me a great service in coming here, as well as what you did for Sandor and I shall forget neither. It doesn't feel like I could ever give you enough. If you find yourself short of provisions or lacking for anything, send me a Raven immediately and I am happy to help". 

"My Lady, you have done more than enough already". Elder Brother protested.

"You saved my life, Elder Brother. Without you, I would be as dead as the Hound". Sandor said earnestly.

"By the Will of the Gods you are here and by the will of the Gods you and Lady Sansa are having a child. Their purpose for you was always clear in my mind. Your path was always to come here and you were intended to be together. The Lannisters couldn't prevent that, neither could the Boltons, Littlefinger, Queen Daenerys or the Stranger himself. We have much to give thanks for. Will you show me to your Godswood, Lady Sansa?" Sandor watched his wife and Elder Brother rise to go to the Godswood, before he scraped his own chair back and moved to follow.


	30. In The Hands of The Gods

The time passed quickly and Sansa grew larger with their child. It became a habit for her to rest for a part of the day and Sandor was glad for it. She had tried to keep up her duties but the pregnancy was taking its toll on her, she tired more easily. The broken sleep in the night didn't help, he often awoke to find her pacing around the room, she said that the babe was kicking her hard or moving too much for her to sleep through it. He left her dozing in a chair and snuck outside into the corridor to speak to the guard. 

He had only been gone but a few minutes when he heard her shout. He dropped the new scabbard that he was discussing with the guard and virtually tripped over his feet in his haste to get to her. 

"Quick! Your son is kicking!" He heard Sansa's words more clearly. 

His feet thumped off the floor and he skidded to a halt by her side and placed his hand on her swollen belly. His eyes grew wide as he felt the babe kicking his hand. "He's feisty, like you Lady Clegane". 

"He has the Clegane tolerance for being prodded, my love". Sansa japed. 

Sandor leaned over and planted a kiss on his wife's lips. "You have never looked more beautiful then you do today. Being heavy with my child becomes you".

"Let us hope he is the first of many, gods willing". Sansa answered with a grin.

"Aye. Let's get his birth out of the way first. You forget that I was stood guarding the door while Cersei birthed her bastards". Sandor grimaced. The memory of the pained shouting, bloodied sheets and red water leaving the room was as bad as any battle he had been caught in, only the aggressor was a tiny unborn babe and no-one other than the Master could be of any real help.

"You forget my lady mother birthed three children after me, you can't scare me my lord, I wasn't shielded from the realities of childbed". Sansa quirked her eyebrow at him.

Sandor snorted. "You know that wasn't my intention. You are my wife and not my brood mare. I won't have you put yourself in danger to give me more children".

"We will leave it in the hands of the Gods." Sansa said firmly, signalling her wish to abandon conversation on the matter. "The Maester said that the babe will be with us any day now."

Sandor nodded. "And I will be by your side for as long as it takes." They hadn't discussed the topic, convention being that the father was expected to occupy himself elsewhere and leave the matter to the Maester and his assistants. "I will not leave you alone and anyone who disagrees on the matter can air their grievances to me in person".

"You would do that for me?" Sansa whispered. Ned Stark was away fighting a war with Robb was born but for the other births, he had left Catelyn as was the custom.

"Aye, of course I would. Everyone talked about how Jamie Lannister didn't leave Cersei during the birth of their three and of course now we know why. Seeing you suffer will be hard but if I try to go anywhere else, my mind will be with you anyway".

Sansa laughed. "You have no pressing desire to go hunting when the time comes?"

He shook his head vehemently. "No. I walked away from a battle once due to my fears and ending up letting you down, I will not walk away from another one. I will not leave you alone again when you need me the most. I will be there for you, for you to direct as you will."

Sansa flung her arms around her husbands neck and squeezed as hard as she could. "Who knew the fearsome Lord Sandor Clegane could be so progressive? Don't worry, I shan't tell a soul".

He felt her breath against his neck and a laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. "We have suffered tradition too long, my love. As I see it, it is my duty to do right by you and the babe, fuck what everyone else thinks."

...................................

Sandor was awoken by Sansa, not long after their conversation about the birth. 

She nudged him gently and he awoke immediately, a remainder of the many times he used to have to spend nights in guard duty. "My love, the time has come". Sansa indicated the pool of wetness on the featherbed around her. "The pains started first". 

Sandor shot from the bed and didn't bother dressing himself. He ran to the outer chamber door in just his small clothes. He barked at the guard on duty, "Fetch the Maester now, the babe is coming. Ask him what he needs and then wake up a couple of the maids to gather provisions, miss nothing out. We need them now. Leave everyone else asleep". No-one normally argued with him in any case but the guard shot off like he had a Dornish firecracker in his mail. Sandor returned to Sansa, who was exactly where he left her. "Tell me what you need, what can I do?" He demanded.

"I don't need anything just yet, save for an embrace. This may well be our last moments as just husband and wife." Sansa spoke gently and he immediately complied, lying himself down alongside her and covering her gently with his arm. They looked deep into each other's eyes and relished the tender moment. They didn't hear the door open as the Master and his assistant entered.

...............................

It had been many hours since Sansa woke him up. The Master organised the maids, ordering hot water and extra bedding. Sandor sat on a chair by the side of their bed. 

The pains were coming fast now but had a tendency to peter out uselessly. Sandor realised why men often chose to leave their wives and womenfolk to the childbed, he hated seeing her in such intense pain and there was bugger all he could do to help, every cry of pain constricted his heart until he thought it would burst. Her brow furrowed again as she squeezed her eyes shut and puffed her cheeks in. "Don't try to hold your breathe my Lady, it won't help. You need to breathe through it, like this..." The Maester puffed his cheeks out in a quick succession of breaths, for a brief moment Sandor remembered whelping bitches that his grandfather used to look after doing something similar, although even he had the tact to not vocalise the connection aloud. Sansa didn't acknowledge the Master's advice, so Sandor touched her hand and started mimicking the panting. Sansa opened an eye and started copying. She creased in pain at that moment, screaming in a manner Sandor wouldn't have thought was possible. 

"Why isn't the babe here yet? It's been too long. Look at her!" Sandor shouted at the Maester.

"They always come in their own time, my Lord. I know it isn't nice to see but it is a normal part of the process. She is almost at the point of being able to push". The Master placated him in a soothing manner. 

"I know it can take a while but she's suffering! Isn't there anything you can give her to ease her pain?" Sandor hissed.

The Maester shook his head. "No My Lord, we need her to be responsive to instruction. Her time is near, I promise. No-one would blame you if you stepped outside for a while, you have been here for hours without refreshment". He suggested helpfully.

"Never! I am here for as long as she is". Sandor stroked her sweaty forehead, her hair was coming loose from her braid due to the thrashing around of her head. "Sansa, the Master said the babe is nearly here." She make no acknowledgement of his statement. He eyes flicked to the Maester and looked quickly to the side of the room. "You!" He addressed a maid stood to the edge of the room. "I needs speak to the Maester for a moment. Stay with her please and don't let go of her hand". The maid nodded dumbly and took Sandor's place by the bed. He moved the Master to the edge of the room gently by his arm. "I am a large man, all of the men in my family were large. Will she be able to get the babe out by herself?" 

The Maester hesitated for a split second too long for Sandor's liking. "It is a definite possibility, given your build, that she may struggle if the baby is broad like you. But the chances are that all will be well. From what I gather from the remaining fragments of Maester Luwin's notes, Lady Catelyn birthed all of her children with few problems. I examined Sansa with this in mind and found that she should not have any issues. It shouldn't present a problem but rest assured I am looking for signs of trouble. There are measures we can take to remedy this, if it is the case".

"Why was I not told of this risk?" Sandor snarled at the shocked Maester. 

"Lady Sansa was aware but asked me not to say anything to you, she didn't want you to spend months worrying about something that most likely will not happen." 

Sandor nodded grimly. The fear of losing Sansa that had been on the edge of his mind for all these months was now all that he could think about, almost like he had pulled an annoying thread in his tunic and now the whole thing had unravelled. It was a real risk, childbed was a serious matter and women often died. Fevers and complications paid no heed to a woman's station, though Sansa was obviously fortunate to have the expertise of a Maester. Although he was grateful for the Maester's expertise, nagging doubt stung at the back of Sandor's mind. A Maester hadn't been able to save Queen Daenerys' mother Rhaella or Tyrion's mother, Joanna. 

"I will check her again, let us hope that she is ready to push. First I must cleanse myself". The Master nodded to the maid, who brought forth a bowl and a pitcher of warm water. The Maester nodded to her, as she fastened his sleeves up around his upper arms with pins. He continued to scrub each hand with soap meticulously, from nails to fingers, then palms back and front. He nodded again and the maid poured his awaiting hands with the water, to remove traces of the soap. He blotted his hand on a fresh linen cloth and moved to stand by Sansa. "I need to check you again, my Lady".

Sansa made no response, she was focused in a place internally, Sandor guessed this was how she was trying to cope with the pain. The Maester glanced over at Sandor and he nodded slightly. "Maester will check you now, my love". He whispered into her ear, she squeezed his hand in response. He barked at the maid, "You are not needed now, stay nearby please. We may have needs of you". The maid took her leave quickly as he turned to face the Maester, "continue". 

The Maester nodded and gently lifted the linen that was protecting her modesty and he looked thoughtful. "She is ready to push now. May I summon my assistant? Sandor nodded his assent, unhappy that another man would be seeing his wife in an indecent state but he was eager for Sansa to be out of pain, she writhed as the pains hit with little gap in between them. The Maester shouted and his assistant came flying through the door unceremoniously.

"Our Lady is ready now. Be prepared to receive a babe. There may be complications, I need you to listen closely and follow direction without question, time is of the essence". The assistant nodded vigorously. "Lady Sansa, it is time". He spoke loudly, not far from Sansa's face. "When the next pain comes, bear down as hard as you can, your babe is ready". Sansa grunted in agreement and squeezed Sandor's hand like she wanted to break every single bone.

Not thirty seconds later, Sansa screamed in pain as the next one hit. "Bear down!" The Maester shouted instruction and Sansa turned red from exertion. "Good! Rest now and do that again, I can feel the head is low". Sansa puffed out and sucked in some more breaths in. Sandor could see the muscles across the bump in Sansa's stomach start to ripple before she recognised the pain herself. "Push, push! The head is dropping down, one more push while the pain lasts". A guttural growl emitted from Sansa's mouth unlike anything he had ever heard. It was raw and primal. "Stop pushing and puff again". He looked to Sandor and he obliged, coaching Sansa through the breaths. "The head is out, shoulders are next". The Maester shot Sandor a meaningful look and dread balled up in his chest, burning with the fire of a thousand torches.

Sandor could feel the sweat rolling down his face, his hair stuck to him and he could feel the salty sting of it in his eyes. He wiped Sansa's face with a cloth and pushed her hair from her face. 

"Shoulders now my Lady. Push with everything you have". The Maester encouraged. Sansa reddened and pushed hard, he could see the strain was affecting her and she looked exhausted. The Maester shook his head at Sandor. "The shoulders aren't moving, my Lady you need to push again". Sansa hadn't recovered from the last pain when the next one hit, she started crying. The Maester shook his head at Sandor again but with more urgency. "Bear down my Lady, the babe needs to come out now". There was something in the Maester voice that panicked Sandor and the burning dread in his chest started spreading rapidly. 

"Push that babe out, Sansa. I can't lose either of you. You can do it. Now!" Sandor squeezed her hand in encouragement and she pushed with great force, she screeched so loud that Sandor was sure the Black Brothers on atop of the Wall would hear her. The Maester nodded encouragingly. 

"Yes! Yes the shoulders are free. One last one and your babe should be here". The Maester sounded relieved but his voice still had an edge to it that made Sandor uneasy. 

This time, Sansa needed no encouragement to push with every ounce of energy she could scrape together. She shouted a victory that he had heard before, the sound of a mother who knew the birth was almost finished. 

"She is here!" The Maester snatched the child up with more speed than Sandor thought was possible and was whisked off to the dresser near the bed that the assistant had prepared. Sandor's face fell when he observed the blue pallor of the baby, blind panic joined the dread that had been present in his chest and the emotions multiplied at a gallop quicker than any steed could muster. The fear of losing Sansa was bad enough, the fear of anything happening to their child was too terrifying for Sandor to contemplate. The Maester had his back to Sandor but he could see him frantically working away.

"What's happening?" Sansa asked wearily. "Where is our son?" 

"The Maester is seeing to the babe". Sandor soothed her with a calm he didn't feel. He kissed her head reassuringly but his eyes did not leave the Maester. 

"Why have I heard no cries? Babes usually cry?" Sansa's panicked voice shredded his heart, her concern for their child was palpable. Sandor could feel fear pricking at every inch of his skin.

"Here she is". The Maester presented Sansa with a pink baby, wrinkled and slightly slicked with blood. Sandor took in every inch of skin, every small flailing finger and tiny toe. He noticed that although she were newborn, she lad rather large feet. His mouth crinkled at the corners as he saw his wife receive their daughter eagerly from the Maester's careful arms and fuss over her. He stroked a finger over the tiny smooth cheek, which for one so little was rather chubby. 

"She?" The one word that Sansa uttered was bliss itself. "She hasn't made any noise". 

"You sound disappointed now but my experience says that she will make up for that in due course. She is startled by the birth but have no doubts that she will let you know how she feels about it soon". The Maester smiled at Sandor and Sansa. "She is hale and hearty as far as I can see". 

Sandor looked at his wife, holding their daughter in wonder. Although she had not a single wisp of hair yet, she looked at them with grey eyes set in a delicate face. The babe snuffled and her eyes searched their faces readily, without really seeing. Tears rolled down Sandor's face and for the first time, he didn't care who saw. "She is perfect, like her mother". Sandor placed a gentle kiss on his wife's head and then repeated it on the tiny head of his newborn daughter. 

"We must tell the Queen at once. Ravens must be sent to Kings Landing and to the Northern Lords and to the Quiet Isle." Sansa garbled. "Could you send a message to someone to do that while the Maester attends to me? You may have seen me in childbed but there is no need for you to witness the aftermath also, let us leave a modicum of mystery alive in our marriage. I am in good hands". Sansa reassured him. With a last long look at the mother and child in front of him, he moved away to do her bidding, with a promise to return when she sent someone to fetch him. 

He caught the Maester on the way from the room and leaned in close to him, startling him slightly in the process. "The babe wasn't breathing, was she? She was bluer than the summer sky over Kings Landing" He had a suspicion but wanted it confirmed. 

The Maester looked to see if Sansa was in ear shot before answering. "The cord was tangled around her neck and once it was freed and cut, no, she wasn't. She needed revival but it can be quite common, I have seen it before. Babies can be born with a blue pallor and still be healthy, my Lord. Any patches of blue skin remaining will be pink by the time you return. I apologise for the speed we took her away but time is everything in these situations." 

The Maester squeaked in surprise as the most feared warrior and man in Westeros grabbed him by both shoulders and hugged him tightly. The Maester's face was squashed against the middle of Sandor's torso, due to the difference in height. Sandor released him. "I shall never forget what you have done for me. I am forever in your debt". He stalked from the room, leaving a shocked Maester in his wake.


	31. What Is Dead May Never Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the monster chapter but it seemed to flow better together.

The days following the birth of their daughter, Ravens flew in from every corner of the land congratulating the proud parents, Queen Daenerys was conspicuously silent on the matter. 

Sandor's time was taken up by caring for his wife and continuing the running of Winterfell during Sansa's recovery. 

"I am not really a fragile bird, you know." Sansa groused as Sandor brought her meal to her bedside. "I am perfectly capable of getting up and dining like a normal person". 

"Be that as it may, the Maester specifically said that you should stay abed for one more day. What he says goes my love, I will take no chances. Do you have all you need?" She nodded. 

"My Lady?" A knock outside the door ripped Sandor's attention from his wife and the sleeping child in the cradle next to her. 

"Lycas? Come in". Sansa shouted somewhat enthusiastically, causing the babe to start briefly before settling again. 

Lycas a a sight for sore eyes, in the manic days post birth, Sandor had no time to see him. 

"My Lady, My Lord". He nodded respectfully. "Congratulations are in order. May I?" He gestured at the cradle as Sandor nodded his head. "She is so small!" He cooed. "From the noises I hear when she is hungry, I expected her to be at least as large as her father and twice as hungry!" Lycas exclaimed as Sandor slapped him playfully on the back. "I pray that she grows as beautiful as her mother and as fierce as her father, I believe she is halfway there on both accounts". He smiled at Sansa. 

"Where have you been hiding Lycas? I haven't seen you properly in so long". Sansa chided him. 

"I didn't want to intrude on your first days as a family, I have been doing the tasks you asked of me, daily tasks that are not worth your time considering at present, among other things". He paused and it gave Sandor cause for concern. 

"Spit it out lad." Sandor observed his face closely, he knew when Lycas was worried about something. 

"I took the liberty of sending a scouting party out over the last sennight, mainly to check wood and fuel provisions in the forests we manage. I apologise for not informing you previously but you have had other matters to attend to". He gestured at the sleeping baby. 

"You're worrying me Lycas, you know you can be candid with us". Sansa prodded gently.

"Alright. It may be nothing but I would rather you both know. The scouting party found a camp not far from here, they found bedrolls, food and tents, evidence that men have been living there for a short while. The fire was still smoking when they approached, so they may have been startled by the party and fled. We have recovered a banner that suggest they may have come from the Vale". Lycas's face was pinched as he delivered the bad news. 

"When?" Sandor barked. 

"The party went scouting found the camp on their way home today, not an hour past". 

"How many?" 

"Judging by the bed rolls, up to a score." 

"Then I needs go and find them. Guard!" Sandor barked at the guard on duty outside the door and he came rushing in. "Have word sent to the stable, have Stranger readied, I will be riding out immediately. I want a small party of men with me. I need all living bodies outside brought in and for the sake of the Gods, ensure they are Winterfell people before letting them in, they need to be this side of the walls. Give weapons to the able bodied and have the elderly and the children kept securely in the Great Hall. I want every guard who is not on duty roused from his bed and ready NOW! Double the guards on patrol and I want five of our best men stationed outside this very door, guarding Lady Sansa and the child!" The guard almost tripped over his feet as he rushed to leave and perform his duties. 

"I shall ready myself to join you, my Lord". Lycas went to leave. 

"No lad, you are not long recovered from your injuries. You are to stay here with Lady Sansa."

"Yes my Lord, I shall guard them with my life". Sandor clapped his hand around the back of Lycas's neck. 

"I know you will, lad. I know you will".

"Sandor, must you leave so soon?" Sansa was shaking with fright, her worry about the Vale back at the fore. "What about our child?" 

"You will both be heavily guarded, I will return as soon as I can. These Vale rats need flushing out once and for all". He moved to her side and laid his head on her lap. "You know I will come back to you, I always do." Sandor felt the palm of her hand stroking his head. "Our daughter is the most precious thing we have, she will not start her life knowing fear". Sandor rose and kissed Sansa gently on the lips, before looking on the cradle and kissing the sleeping babe tenderly on her hairless head. 

He stalked from the room quickly, before he changed his mind. 

...............

Sandor used the walk down to the yard to calm his breathing and soothe the jangled anger in his mind. He could feel familiar urges rising from the place in his soul where the Hound had been buried for so long. 

He rounded the corner to the yard and saw that his instruction had been executed quickly. Every available body in Winterfell had been assembled in the courtyard. The men had gathered the folk from outside the walls and brought them in for safety. The guards on the gates shouted confirmation when they were firmly secured. 

The time he hadn't been looking forward to was nearing. He stood atop a table in the courtyard and had a clear view over everyone. Many frightened faces stared back at him, looking for pretty soothing words that he could not provide them. "People of Winterfell. It has come to my attention that men of the Vale are nearby and they will do us ill if we let them." Concerned murmurs arose from the crowd. "Many of you remember the time that the Ironborn and the Boltons stole Winterfell from its rightful owners, the Starks and how miserable life was here under their guardianship. I will not allow this to happen while I am here, while my wife and your Wardeness, sits holding Ned and Catelyn Stark's only grandchild. This place fell once but I will not allow it to fall again. Elders, invalids, children, women who are with child or have suckling babes will be housed securely in the Great Hall. Every other one of you is expected to bear arms and defend what is ours." He looked out over the sea of stunned faces. "Some of us will die, others will live but Winterfell, your Wardeness and the child must survive". He paused and gauged the reaction.

"We're not trained, my Lord! We are but normal working folk." One voice carried from the back of the crowd. 

"You do not need to be anointed knights or warriors to defend what is ours. If one of them comes at you, then you cut them down with the sharp end of your sword and you must do so with no hesitation. They will show you no quarter, make no mistake about it". Sandor barked, his voice echoed around the yard. "We do not know where they are now or exactly how many we will be facing, they could well be here already. Take a look at the person next to you, do you recognise them? Do you know them? Have you seen them before? Many of the passing tradesmen have already left, the only people here should be folk you know." Sandor scanned the crowd as the people did as he instructed, heads turned hither and yon, taking in the people around them. His attention was drawn to the back of the crowd, where a man was trying to slip away. 

"You! Seize him!" He pointed the man out to the guards but before they could intercede, many hands shot forward and held the man in place. Sandor ran towards the startled looking man, on closer inspection, he was little more than a green boy with wide eyes. Sandor saw fear in his eyes and it made him angry. 

"Who are you?" Sandor demanded, ignoring the look of sheer terror on his face.

"I...I...I'm a flour merchant's son here on business and I've been for for a week, I'm due to return home today". The lad stuttered in his panic. 

"Where is Wylen?" Sandor shouted for the baker to come forward. He could see the crowd move to make way.

"Lord Sandor". Wylen stood before him and nodded his head. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Sandor had lifted the sack of flour from his son's leg in the bakery. 

"Wylen. Do you have knowledge of this man? If any should here then it would be you. Has he sold you flour or grain, or approached you of such?" Sandor's eyes bore into the baker's.

"No my Lord. Our grain is grown and milled locally, if we run short then Josyph supplies us. Josyph has been here since Lady Sansa's father took over. He has no living sons, they perished with Lord Robb at the Red Wedding". Wylen confirmed.

"Look carefully again, Wylen. His life depends on it". Sandor demanded. 

"I am certain of it, Lady Sansa herself spoke to Josyph not long ago about our Winter stocks and he wouldn't send someone else here to tend to his business". Wylen insisted. 

"So be it. Guards, throw him in the cells and await my presence for interrogation". Sandor eyeballed the trembling man mercilessly as he was dragged away.

.................

They sat facing each other in the dank cells in the belly of Winterfell. Sandor was heartened to see that Littlefinger had spared no coin in extending and reinforcing the cells. The man opposite trembled as he sat. He used the extended silence to feed the man's fear, it was palpable. Outside, in the yard above them, Sandor could hear the sounds of clanging metal and heavy footsteps, bustling around in preparation. 

"You have one chance to live. Tell us where your Vale brothers in arms are hiding and what the plan is. If you show me honesty then I will show you mercy and you will be allowed to the Wall to take the black". Sandor spoke evenly but his hands itched from the desire to wrap them around his scrawny throat and squeeze until his head fell off.

His head dropped and he seemed to consider it for a few moments. "I am a flour merchant's son, my Lord..." 

Sandor backhanded him hard across the face, causing his head to snap to the side violently. "One chance. I am not a patient man".

Desperation pooled in his face and the facade dropped and a trail of scarlet blood traced a path from his mouth down his neck. "I don't know where they are but they will be nearby. They sent me in to assess security and manpower. They are planning an attack at night. Soon".

"What is their aim?" Sandor asked, somewhat unnecessarily. 

The man met his eyes for the first time. "They want to avenge Lord Harry by executing Lady Sansa, you and the baby". 

A snarl of guttural rage ripped from Sandor's throat as he stood to his feet quickly, he grabbed the man by his neck and lifted him clean off his seat. He held him aloft in the air, their eyes on the same level, despite the desperate thrashing of the man's feet in the air and his hands clawing around Sandor's own, a desperate attempt to free himself from Sandor's grip. Sandor shook him from side to side before bringing him down quickly and slamming him back first on the wooden table that had been between them when they were seated. The table shook violently under the force of the blow. His other hand found his trusted dagger from his belt and held the blade to the man's face. 

"You would dare come here to our home and attempt to kill my wife and child? Why now?" He words spat in fury and hatred. "Do you know who I am and what I have done? I've done terrible shit that would give you nightmares for the rest of your days." He eased the squeezing of the man's throat, although every impulse he had told Sandor to kill him. 

The man gasped in air. "The Hound! The men of the Vale were told the Wolf bitch gelded the Hound and has you doing her bidding. She murdered our rightful Lord to couple with her Dog. They are calling you both traitors and your child a bastard mongrel born of treacherous murderers. They care not that the Queen was on your side. They don't accept the new Lord of the Vale and have been planning this since word spread of your marriage".

"How many?" Sandor's anger was enraged by the new information, he clung desperately to the memory of Elder Brother's teachings before his control was lost completely. 

"A score". The man rubbed his neck and sucked in air, no doubt grateful for his sudden release.

Sandor stared at him thoughtfully, the atmosphere laden with anger and foreboding. 

........................

Sandor found himself walking back to his chamber trying to find words for what he had discovered. His wife once again found herself at risk, having lost almost everyone she called kin. His head and heart were heavy with possibility. No matter how he weighed the possibilities, there were too many unknowns for his liking. He could hear the sound of the five guards he had ordered were stationed outside the door, just as he wanted. They drew their swords as they saw movement down the hall, he was glad they were paying attention. 

"Who goes there?" He heard the gruff tones of one.

"It's me, you can relax". He shouted back. True to his word, he heard the sounds of swords being sheathed before he came into sight. As he rounded the corner, three leaped to block the door while two stood forward to accost him.

"What in the name of all fucking things holy do you ladies think you are doing? Where are your swords? if I come at you now then how the fuck will you stop me cutting you all in half and getting to your lady and the babe?" Spittle flew from the corner of his mouth as he eyeballed the sheepish guards.

"You said to relax because it was you, we recognised your voice". The guard at the front started apprehensively. 

"And I'm the only snarling bastard in this realm with a low voice? Come on you cunts, shall I summon some of the old people from the hall? They'd surely do a better job! I don't care who a person claims to be, you don't ever lower your guard. Ever! You are all relieved and you will fetch replacements before joining patrol on the ramparts, once this is done then we will be having further words about your stupidity. Now get the fuck out of my way". He eyeballed each one in turn as he elbowed past them to get to the door, he noticed they shrank back from him as people used to before. Sandor's hand felt for the handle and the door swung in, Lycas leaped forward with a dagger in his hand. 

"Easy lad!" He sidestepped in time. "It's me". 

"Sorry my Lord". Lycas dropped it to the floor, no doubt horrified that he'd almost killed his Lord. 

"Don't be sorry. That is exactly what I hoped you would be willing to do and for that you have my thanks. Now. I will tell you what I have found". Sandor began to tell them what had happened in the yard and in the cell. "It seems that they will be planning an attack here but we don't know when or how". 

He paused to let his wife and Lycas absorb the information. He used the gap to pick up his daughter, who was cooing in his wife's arms. She snuffled and turned her head to face him, the little eyes were so like his own and seemed to pierce the very fabric of his soul. Sandor did his best to smile at her, aware that even his best non-threatening smile could be terrifying. She responded by kicking her legs and crinkling her eyes. He wasn't sure how much she could see but he hoped that she could feel how much he loved her. 

"So we are at risk?" Sansa asked, her voice wavering and she looked at their daughter in terror. "And they want to kill us all?" The tears rolled down her face silently and he knew it wasn't herself or Sandor she was terrified for. 

"I won't let that happen. They'll not touch a hair on either of you." He snarled. "They are dead men, they just don't know it yet". 

Sansa started at the tone of her husband's words, a tone she had not heard for so long. "Is the Hound truly gone?"

Sandor placed their daughter back in her mother's arms and stroked her tiny face with his finger. 

"What is dead may never die". He used the long gone Ironborn's own words in answer.

There was a pause in the room as his words registered.

"But rises again harder and stronger". Lycas finished for him.


	32. Dead Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm reallllly sorry that it's taken me so long to post another chapter, a combination of writer's block and other projects getting in the way!
> 
> There's maybe 1-2 more chapters until this will be complete.

Sandor rode Stranger at the forefront of the men, alongside the man that Lycas had put in charge of the scouting party, Lyonel Snow. The darkness permeated everything, Sandor could barely see in front of his face. Wolves howled somewhere in the distance, Sandor hoped a very large distance away from them. No-one else seemed bothered by the noise.

"How do you know we are going the right way? It is dark, not yet morning." Sandor asked of Lyonel. 

"I've been riding these parts since I was old enough to mount a horse, we are going the right way. I could navigate with my eyes closed" The younger man insisted.

"Do you think the Vale cunts are still there?" 

"I couldn't say, my Lord. They may have been nearby or they may have moved on, we were careful not to disturb too much and took only one banner". Sandor remembered hearing that Lyonel was a bastard of House Cassel, the family who had served the Starks for generations and had care for the household and grounds for almost as long. Lyonel was younger than himself and he had long brown hair, he had a look of Jory about him.

"We will approach the camp on horse, then dismount and continue on foot. You needs tell me when we near". Sandor looked back at his group of ten men. They were not the fiercest or best of the men they had, he had those guarding Sansa and Winterfell. He didn't need warriors for flushing out these rats, just numbers.

The rode in companionable silence for the rest of the journey. The sky lightened as dawn threatened to appear. Lyonel stopped his horse and jumped off, the rest followed. Sandor dismounted Stranger and tied him to a tree, a short distance from the rest of the horses, his time in Northern solitude had not improved his tolerance for other living things. 

The men moved silently through the forest, almost as if they glided over the scrub. Sandor didn't hear a single twig break underfoot. The crouched low as the camp came into view. Not a soul was moving around. Sandor motioned the men to move closer to him. 

"We will do this fast and use the element of surprise. Spread out and encircle the camp, we needs no stragglers escaping. Harm none except for any who try to run. Bring them forward into the centre of the camp." Sandor whispered low and he looked to each face to ensure they understood. They all nodded and moved off, negotiating the forest floor so that they could form a circle around the camp. 

While they were moving off, Sandor spotted a solitary lookout, who was fast asleep in a tree hide, only six feet from the ground. Due to his height, Sandor was able to look down on the man from above. He began to draw his sword and then thought of it again. The Hound battled with Sandor as to what the fate of this man should be. Sandor thought of subduing him and questioning him but the Hound wanted nothing other than blood and death. He stood looking at the man for a few moments, precious minutes he could not afford to spare. His eyes focused on the man in the hide before they came to rest on a rock in the ground. The rock was substantial as he tested in in his hands, it was heavy even by Sandor's standards, the strain of lifting it was more than he had anticipated. Sandor stood looking for a couple of seconds more before allowing the Hound to assume control. He raised the rock over his head and brought it down quickly on the sleeping man's head, moving swiftly on afterwards.

Dawn was breaking fast and he stepped cautiously into the clearing of the camp. he saw only two tents and there were men sleeping on their bedrolls outside. He motioned to two of his men to clear the tents and the rest set about securing the others. He heard cries of surprise as his men entered the one tent and dragged the occupants out. He kicked the nearest man to him as the rest of his men did the same. "Get up, you thrice damned cunts!" Men spilled forth from the outskirts of the camp and were driven into the centre of the camp. "On your knees!" Sandor growled, his husky voice laden with menace. The men complied, he noticed a few twitching fingers which no doubt were itching to grasp the swords that weren't there. His men stood around them in a circle. Sandor counted them quickly. There were many bodies here, added to the dead watchman and the interloper in the cells at Winterfell, he accounted for a full score. "What was in the other tent?" He asked of the man closest to him. 

"Just provisions, my Lord. Lots of them". One of his men answered.

Many sets of eyes burned into him, with a mixture of fear and uncertainty, most of them were of an age with the boy in the cells. Sandor observed how many of them didn't even have stubble upon their faces. "You." He pointed at the eldest who had been sleeping in the tent, Sandor had him marked as the ringleader. He was portly and had grey whiskers, his dark hair was peppered with white. "Are there more?" Disgust coloured his words. 

"And why would I tell you, Dog?" The unknown man spat at him. 

"Because you are all going to die. Think of me as your Septon, confess your sins before I pack you off to greet your Gods." He grinned and could feel the craters of his scars twisting upwards.

"Only that Stark bitch can sentence us to death, she told Lord Harry as much before she murdered him". Cocky arrogance rubbed Sandor the wrong way, the temptation to put his sword through the man's skull was almost irresistible. "You may as well take me to see her, I have heard that she is quite lovely to look upon, despite her treacherous nature. She has traitor's blood in her veins, Lord Harry should never have wed that cunt, no matter how great her claim. Only one of our men escaped following Lord Harry's murder and he was so scared that he wouldn't come back here to face you, I told him that cowards, traitors and turncloaks are nothing to be afraid of". Beady eyes bored into Sandor with such unashamed arrogance, even the Kingslayer had better sense that this and everyone knew how much he liked the sound of his own voice.

Sandor strode the few spaces to where the man was on his knees and he picked him up by his hair until he stood on his feet, swiftly aiming a kick to the man's meaty shin with every ounce of strength he possessed, ignoring the twang of pain radiating in his own leg. Sandor felt the man's bone snap directly under his boot. His blood was up and he barely registered the screams. "If I wanted to give you mercy, I would have killed you all while you were abed. Mercy is not a gift you will be receiving today. You came here to kill my family. Now for the very last time, how many are you?" The man twisted and contorted in pain but Sandor's hold on the man's hair and scalp held him upright despite his injury. 

"A score! Only a score!" The man sobbed louder than any babe under Sandor's grasp. Sandor released him and he slid to the floor. He shot a glance at the rest of the men and saw gaping faces from both Winterfell men and Vale men. None had been subject to the Hound in his full fury although they must have heard the many stories that circulated about him. Not all of them were true, mind but gossips don't seek to sort the truth from the lies before spreading them anyway. Sandor had heard whispers when he first arrived, the men were too scared even to speak them aloud and the whispers ceased as his shadow loomed nearer. Sandor had a feeling that all of his work to fit in to the daily life of Winterfell would be for naught after this, the Hound wasn't a man soon forgotten once witnessed.

"That is a nasty wound." Sandor observed quite unnecessarily. "I can see a white bone sticking out of your flesh and the leg is really quite twisted." The man's booted foot faced entirely the wrong way and for a minute, Sandor could only admire his handiwork. He circled the man. "A merciful man would put you out of your misery." Sandor drew his dagger and plunged it into the man's left shoulder, twisting the blade around in the wound. The man's screams of agony bounced off the trees and echoed ghost like around the camp. "That is for planning to kill my wife". He released the dagger and left it in the shoulder. "This is for bringing men here to kill my child". He drew his spare dagger from his boot and drew it carefully across the white neck, leaving a ribbon of red in its place. "Your lifeblood will leave you slowly and right before you die, you will hear the sound of your own heart beating fruitlessly. Not for long though." He sheathed his dagger and moved away from the gurgling man on the floor, who was clutching his neck in a futile effort to stem the crimson tide of blood. For a split second, the stories of Catelyn Stark's death at the Red Wedding entered his head but he shook them away. 

He walked slowly towards the terrified faced before him and said nothing for a good few minutes. The men knelt before him had their hands placed on their heads. He drew his sword and his men followed suit. "No! They came here to kill my family, their blood belongs to me" He barked at them. 

Starting with the man closest to him, he swept his sword in a singular arc. Delivering single fatal blows to one after another, waiting until the man slumped dead on the ground before moving on to the next one. He heard the sobbing of the condemned men awaiting being put to the blade and the pleas for leniency but didn't think on it. Some called for their mothers, others called for the protection of the Gods but it was all pointless. Sandor dispatched one after another with no further thought or real effort, the Hound was firmly in control and enjoying the destruction with each fresh spray of blood. By the time the body of the last man fell to the ground, Sandor was covered in the scarlet blood of the Vale men. He turned around to face his men, whose expressions were all identical masks of horror, they looked from the bloodied sword to Sandor's face and back again. "Gather up the provisions we can use and take them back to Winterfell, waste nothing, that is what Lady Sansa would want if she were here herself". He nodded at the tents and bedrolls. "Dig a pit and bury the bodies. Mark the grave well, let this place be used as evidence of what happens to people who would come here do us ill. Except him." He pointed to the first whiskered man, who was clearly dead. Sandor could feel the eyes of his men on his as he stooped down carefully, minding the pool of blood on the floor. He placed a foot on the corpse's torso, using the extra purchase for pulling the dagger from deep in the shoulder tissue. "I'm going to cut his fucking head off, then we pack it off to the Vale and let them observe the fruits of his sedition. I regret not getting his name but it makes no matter, someone will recognise him". Sandor spat on the body as a final insult before cleaving the head from the shoulders of the body in one quick stroke. He stooped one last time to wipe the blood from his blade on the corpse's tunic before sheathing it on his back. 

Sandor set about retrieving his horse but he'd only taken a few steps before he turned to look back towards the camp, it was being dismantled piece by piece by his men as he had instructed. He could feel eyes burning into his back with the heat of dragonfire. On the outer edge of the camp, a hooded figure watched silently by the treeline. Sandor's hand went to the hilt of his sword before he realised that there was something familiar about the figure. Against every instinct he had, he stood and watched without acting but his sword hand longed for the reassuring grasp of metal against his palm. The figure glided slowly past past half a dozen of his men and they showed no acknowledgement or sign of having seen it at all. It came to a halt before the bodies of the dead men. A cloaked arm raised and seem to beckon towards the fallen. As Sandor stood observing, transparent shapes that reminded him of morning mist rose from the bodies. As they came to rest, they resembled a rough outline of the men they had been. Sandor squinted but other than the outline, he could discern no further detail. He glanced at the body of the leader, which was a few paces in front of him. True enough, the same happened before his eyes. A misty substance rose from the body and came to settle in front of him. The dead man stood before Sandor, as he had in life not many minutes before. On the other side of the camp, he could see the cloaked figure raise an arm towards him. The misty man turned abruptly and began moving towards it, as if he were compelled to. As Sandor watched, the cloaked figure led the fallen men back to the treeline, where they evaporated into nothingness one by one until only the cloaked figure was left. It stopped abruptly before turning around again and seemed to look directly at Sandor, although the face was still concealed, Sandor felt the tingle of eyes on him. The hooded head of the figure bowed his head in Sandor's direction before he melted into the background as if he had never been there at all.

"My Lord, are you well?" Sandor started as Lyonel appeared by his elbow. "You were staring at the treeline by the camp, have you seen something that displeases you?" Lyonel showed more caution around Sandor than he had previously, it was telling.

"Did you see that?" Sandor asked, ignoring the question completely.

"See what, my Lord? The men have been clearing as you instructed, once that is done then we shall move the bodies immediately, I will see to it personally." Lyonel spoke quickly, Sandor recognised fear and an attempt at placation when he saw it but Lyonel and the men were in no danger from him, although they didn't seem to realise that. 

"Nothing. It was nothing. Carry on." Sandor dismissed Lyonel and he ran off towards the camp. Sandor stayed rooted to the spot, still staring at the spot in the treeline that the figure had emerged from. Only one thing made sense - he had witnessed the Stranger claiming the souls of the slain from the slaughter, much as Sandor was claimed by the Stranger on the Trident all that time ago. A shiver colder than the frigid air atop the Wall rolled down Sandor's spine and try as he might, he couldn't shake it off.


End file.
